February 14th. The predetermined day of love. Although more accepted than the fall's Sweetest Day (my husband refuses to acknowledge this made up "holiday", ha!), it still seems kind of silly to have a day that reminds us to show our love for others. We should just do this automatically, every day, right? Eh, well.
When I was little, it was a joy to decorate a shoe box with construction paper, paint, and glitter. My favorite Valentine's day box was a frog. I can't remember which cartoon characters adorned my cards to my classmates, but it was a pretty simple affair. Now that my kids are in school and celebrate the holiday, it's quite common to have a card which comes with something else: a pencil, a tattoo, candy, or even a mini glow stick. Each holiday seems to get more and more elaborate each year (I swear, we celebrate Halloween for three solid weeks in October!), and I wonder how it will continue to evolve.
For now, though, my kids know that this is a holiday to show their friends, teachers, and family that they are appreciated. I was proud of my kids this year; they didn't need prompting to send little cards in the mail, or make gifts for us. Addie even remembered that I admired a sparkly red cup at Walgreen's a few weeks ago, and she asked Mark to take her there so she could use her own money to buy it for me. Sweet girl! It's times like these that I realize that my efforts to churn out "good" kids might be working.
Mark made a lovely dinner for us tonight (surf & turf, delicious!), and now it's time to round everyone up for bed, as Al has an early Special Olympics event tomorrow morning. Although my day didn't consist of lavish flowers or chocolates (which I honestly had no desire for, anyway!), I definitely feel loved, and that's what counts.
Happy Valentine's Day, friends. I hope you feel loved, too.
Friday, February 14, 2014
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Mobile
Dear Cranky Lady in Line Behind Us,
I'm sorry that you're having such a rough day. Something truly awful must have happened today for you to be so irritated about having to wait in line at this store.
I think the words I spoke to my five-year-old son are relevant to you, too:
"Don't be so rude. Soon, it will be your turn at the register and someone will have to wait on you. Just stand there and wait patiently."
Huffing and puffing because my son didn't hop right out of your way when we were finished definitely crossed a line. I'm sorry I told him to "stand up before the cranky lady has a complete meltdown". Well, I suppose I'm only sorry if you didn't hear me. Be an adult and wait your turn, or shop online and have all your purchases delivered so you can avoid any future inconveniences.
For what it's worth, I hope your day brightens up a bit. I also hope you enjoy those new sheets that you were in such a hurry to buy.
XO,
JFK
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Exhausted
Changes in routine are never easy. I am very used to juggling everyone's schedules around my own, so I figured that adding another task to my daily schedule would not have much of an impact. I was wrong.
I am very much enjoying my new job; everything has come together and is running fairly smoothly, logistics-wise (even with all the snow days!). I never expected to be so tired, though!
Today was a hectic day, with work, picking up kids, speech therapy for Al at a new clinic, and then church. We arrived home after 8:30pm, with Valentines to finish, and I have an AVON order to sort and then an assignment from another project to finish. (Note how I'm still posting a blog, though...that, my friends, is dedication!)
Because it's almost 10pm, and I have a considerable amount of work to do tonight, this entry will have to be cut short. Hopefully, tomorrow will be less hectic; somehow, though, I doubt it.
Anyone else hear the circus music? Just me? Ok, then.
I am very much enjoying my new job; everything has come together and is running fairly smoothly, logistics-wise (even with all the snow days!). I never expected to be so tired, though!
Today was a hectic day, with work, picking up kids, speech therapy for Al at a new clinic, and then church. We arrived home after 8:30pm, with Valentines to finish, and I have an AVON order to sort and then an assignment from another project to finish. (Note how I'm still posting a blog, though...that, my friends, is dedication!)
Because it's almost 10pm, and I have a considerable amount of work to do tonight, this entry will have to be cut short. Hopefully, tomorrow will be less hectic; somehow, though, I doubt it.
Anyone else hear the circus music? Just me? Ok, then.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Smiles
Mothers tend to grumble a lot. There is always so much to do (work, laundry, shopping, cooking, cleaning, homework, carpooling...the list goes on and on), and seemingly very little time in which to complete it all. So, we grumble. It may be a silent grumble, with an eye roll; it could be a full blown Marge Simpson grumble (I've perfected that one by now).
Just this evening, I was feeling very overwhelmed because the kids still need to finish their valentines, the dishes had not been done, I was in the middle of a bazillion loads of laundry, and Al had Special Olympics basketball practice at 5:30pm. It wasn't even a full practice (I assumed it would be cut short because the older players had a game; I was correct in that!), so were going to drive 25 minutes for a 30 minute practice. It took a lot for me to not bail on basketball all together, in favor of finishing all the other tasks I was struggling to complete. But, because Alex loves basketball, and this was the last practice of the season, I dropped everything and loaded everyone into the car.
As I figured they would, the kids fought the entire way, and with traffic, we barely arrived in time. Stressful commutes are just super fun. When we arrived at the gym, Alex ran ahead so he could join his team, and I waited (and waited, and waited) for Andrew to get his stuff together so we could go into the gym. We trudged inside, and found a place to sit. Alex was a little overwhelmed by the presence of all the extra people in the gym, but he quickly warmed up and fell into line with his teammates. I tried to watch the kids practice, even though my endless to-do list kept running through my head.
Then, I saw Al take the ball and start dribbling down the court, running the drill his coach had demonstrated. He was beaming. He loves the game, and there is no hiding it when he gets the ball. The third part of the drill was to take a shot; he missed many consecutive shots, but would always take the ball and get back into line.
Then, the team switched to a shooting drill. One by one, the kids took their shots, and many of them starting making their baskets. The smiles on their faces quickly melted away any of the stress I was feeling in having to take Al to practice. With each basket, their smiles got a little brighter, and they were very proud of themselves. It was awesome.
So, although I had to abandon this disaster area of a home I have right now to go to an abbreviated practice, it was so worth it. These kids work so hard, and they needed to hear the cheers from the "crowd" (read: players' parents). Their million-watt smiles were more than enough of a trade off.
The valentines and laundry will all get done in time. I'll remember Alex's proud smiles for many years to come.
Just this evening, I was feeling very overwhelmed because the kids still need to finish their valentines, the dishes had not been done, I was in the middle of a bazillion loads of laundry, and Al had Special Olympics basketball practice at 5:30pm. It wasn't even a full practice (I assumed it would be cut short because the older players had a game; I was correct in that!), so were going to drive 25 minutes for a 30 minute practice. It took a lot for me to not bail on basketball all together, in favor of finishing all the other tasks I was struggling to complete. But, because Alex loves basketball, and this was the last practice of the season, I dropped everything and loaded everyone into the car.
As I figured they would, the kids fought the entire way, and with traffic, we barely arrived in time. Stressful commutes are just super fun. When we arrived at the gym, Alex ran ahead so he could join his team, and I waited (and waited, and waited) for Andrew to get his stuff together so we could go into the gym. We trudged inside, and found a place to sit. Alex was a little overwhelmed by the presence of all the extra people in the gym, but he quickly warmed up and fell into line with his teammates. I tried to watch the kids practice, even though my endless to-do list kept running through my head.
Then, I saw Al take the ball and start dribbling down the court, running the drill his coach had demonstrated. He was beaming. He loves the game, and there is no hiding it when he gets the ball. The third part of the drill was to take a shot; he missed many consecutive shots, but would always take the ball and get back into line.
Then, the team switched to a shooting drill. One by one, the kids took their shots, and many of them starting making their baskets. The smiles on their faces quickly melted away any of the stress I was feeling in having to take Al to practice. With each basket, their smiles got a little brighter, and they were very proud of themselves. It was awesome.
So, although I had to abandon this disaster area of a home I have right now to go to an abbreviated practice, it was so worth it. These kids work so hard, and they needed to hear the cheers from the "crowd" (read: players' parents). Their million-watt smiles were more than enough of a trade off.
The valentines and laundry will all get done in time. I'll remember Alex's proud smiles for many years to come.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Inclusion
Certain words can evoke strong feelings; emotions which are kept at bay can come screaming out, full force, when a specific word is mentioned. Sometimes these are feelings of joy, sometimes anger. And sometimes, when you hear that one particular word, you feel everything from happiness to frustration to exhaustion, all at once. For my family, the word "inclusion" has become a definite trigger word.
If you speak with any parent of a child with an IEP about their child's education, you may soon discover that he or she is tired. I'm not a fan of generalizations, but I feel confident that this statement is true. As if being a parent isn't exhausting enough, when you have a child that requires an Individualized Education Program (IEP), you get thrown into the choppy seas of advocacy. It's not an easy task, and we don't typically ask to do it, but when you have a child with special needs, it is up to you to be the very loudest voice that advocates for them.
I've indicated before how difficult our journey has been this year, and along with the supportive comments we've received, there are also those that defend the school district's actions. Let me make this perfectly clear: I understand how difficult it is to be a teacher these days, and I do not envy their jobs one bit. I've expressed to my son's teachers (this year and in previous years) that our challenges and disagreements are not to be taken personally; whether they want to believe that is up to them. The system is very broken. When school districts gamble that parents don't know their rights, and the rights of their children, then they are bound to come across parents like us who know better. Set up the hoops, I'll keep jumping through them, if I feel that I need to advocate for a better education for my son.
Inclusion has been presented as though it's a privilege, something that is awarded to students with special needs. Ridiculous. I realize that it's not an easy task, and that contentious meetings are stressful and draining. I also don't care. Children like my son need to be educated with their peers so that they can grow into adults that can independently function in society. If we segregate these kids into resource rooms, where the environment is easily controlled and corralling them is more convenient for the daily schedule, they will not benefit from being alongside their typically developing peers. It's going to take extra effort, intensive planning, and more collaboration between teachers, interventionists, and parents. I'm ready to put in the time, and I will challenge everyone who works with my son, and those like him, to do the same.
If you aren't familiar with the IEP processes, you may be thinking that we're expecting too much of the school districts, or creating extra work for ourselves. But truthfully, if districts would listen to the parents and just try to make the requested accommodations, there would be a lot less work involved. I can't tell you how many times I've made a suggestion, only to be told "the district doesn't do that", even when I know they do. So, of course, we take it a step further, only to be shot down again, so we take it another step further. I'm going to keep going until we get the education that my son deserves.
Our struggles are certainly not isolated; I know of families all across the country that endure more strenuous situations in their efforts to educate their children. My friend recently posted a link on Facebook that details the battles of a family in Florida, whose child is dying yet they are still being forced into absurd battles with their school district. Many people do not realize the challenges that are imposed on families who are already dealing with so much. We face extra financial burden, strained relationships, and worries that most people don't have to consider, and then we get to deal with school issues on top of all that. That is, unless you are able to hire someone to help you. In our school district, it's become a well known phenomenon that until you hire a private advocate or attorney, to attend meetings and assist in navigating the system, you don't get anywhere with the schools. This is disgusting. So, because I can't afford to fork over a cool one thousand dollars for an advocate before my next meeting with the school at the end of this month, I'll continue to get the run around.
But run I shall, and I'll keep jumping through those hoops. I know they can do what we're asking; we're not being unreasonable in our requests. Maybe they're just not used to having parents push back, asking them to think beyond what they've done in the past, to suit their child. That's the thing with kids with special needs; you can't develop a standard plan, or schedule, or philosophy and expect that every child fits into it. It does not work that way. There's a reason we sit and write (and rewrite, and rewrite again) these Individualized Education Programs. IEP parents are becoming more savvy, perhaps, than they were in the past, and it's time for districts to recognize that. We know what's going on around us.
To all those in this nation's school systems who sit on the opposite side of the table (teachers, interventionists, district administrators) from the tired IEP parents: stop taking these challenges so personally. It's not about you. We would be questioning the same things, regardless of who was sitting across from us. I'm sorry if our concerns make you look bad in front of your colleagues; that is certainly not our intention. We do, however, expect you to hear us out without an attitude, and to work with us on these issues. We're here to work together, not make things worse. We are supposed to work as a team. This process should not be so difficult. You would fight just as hard if it was your child's education being discussed.
To those IEP parents who do not face these struggles: be thankful. Every once in a while, I encounter a parent who is shocked to hear of our struggles, because they've had such a great experience with their schools. I envy the ease you experience in advocating for your child's education. In fact, I often daydream about what it must be like to walk into a meeting with a list of requests, and have the district readily agree to them. One day, I hope to enjoy that as well.
Hearing about, or thinking of, "inclusion" should not trigger such anxiety. Someday, it won't, and I'll get to be one of the lucky parents who is confident that their child is getting the education they need. We'll all get there. Just keep jumping, and we'll do it together.
If you speak with any parent of a child with an IEP about their child's education, you may soon discover that he or she is tired. I'm not a fan of generalizations, but I feel confident that this statement is true. As if being a parent isn't exhausting enough, when you have a child that requires an Individualized Education Program (IEP), you get thrown into the choppy seas of advocacy. It's not an easy task, and we don't typically ask to do it, but when you have a child with special needs, it is up to you to be the very loudest voice that advocates for them.
I've indicated before how difficult our journey has been this year, and along with the supportive comments we've received, there are also those that defend the school district's actions. Let me make this perfectly clear: I understand how difficult it is to be a teacher these days, and I do not envy their jobs one bit. I've expressed to my son's teachers (this year and in previous years) that our challenges and disagreements are not to be taken personally; whether they want to believe that is up to them. The system is very broken. When school districts gamble that parents don't know their rights, and the rights of their children, then they are bound to come across parents like us who know better. Set up the hoops, I'll keep jumping through them, if I feel that I need to advocate for a better education for my son.
Inclusion has been presented as though it's a privilege, something that is awarded to students with special needs. Ridiculous. I realize that it's not an easy task, and that contentious meetings are stressful and draining. I also don't care. Children like my son need to be educated with their peers so that they can grow into adults that can independently function in society. If we segregate these kids into resource rooms, where the environment is easily controlled and corralling them is more convenient for the daily schedule, they will not benefit from being alongside their typically developing peers. It's going to take extra effort, intensive planning, and more collaboration between teachers, interventionists, and parents. I'm ready to put in the time, and I will challenge everyone who works with my son, and those like him, to do the same.
If you aren't familiar with the IEP processes, you may be thinking that we're expecting too much of the school districts, or creating extra work for ourselves. But truthfully, if districts would listen to the parents and just try to make the requested accommodations, there would be a lot less work involved. I can't tell you how many times I've made a suggestion, only to be told "the district doesn't do that", even when I know they do. So, of course, we take it a step further, only to be shot down again, so we take it another step further. I'm going to keep going until we get the education that my son deserves.
Our struggles are certainly not isolated; I know of families all across the country that endure more strenuous situations in their efforts to educate their children. My friend recently posted a link on Facebook that details the battles of a family in Florida, whose child is dying yet they are still being forced into absurd battles with their school district. Many people do not realize the challenges that are imposed on families who are already dealing with so much. We face extra financial burden, strained relationships, and worries that most people don't have to consider, and then we get to deal with school issues on top of all that. That is, unless you are able to hire someone to help you. In our school district, it's become a well known phenomenon that until you hire a private advocate or attorney, to attend meetings and assist in navigating the system, you don't get anywhere with the schools. This is disgusting. So, because I can't afford to fork over a cool one thousand dollars for an advocate before my next meeting with the school at the end of this month, I'll continue to get the run around.
But run I shall, and I'll keep jumping through those hoops. I know they can do what we're asking; we're not being unreasonable in our requests. Maybe they're just not used to having parents push back, asking them to think beyond what they've done in the past, to suit their child. That's the thing with kids with special needs; you can't develop a standard plan, or schedule, or philosophy and expect that every child fits into it. It does not work that way. There's a reason we sit and write (and rewrite, and rewrite again) these Individualized Education Programs. IEP parents are becoming more savvy, perhaps, than they were in the past, and it's time for districts to recognize that. We know what's going on around us.
To all those in this nation's school systems who sit on the opposite side of the table (teachers, interventionists, district administrators) from the tired IEP parents: stop taking these challenges so personally. It's not about you. We would be questioning the same things, regardless of who was sitting across from us. I'm sorry if our concerns make you look bad in front of your colleagues; that is certainly not our intention. We do, however, expect you to hear us out without an attitude, and to work with us on these issues. We're here to work together, not make things worse. We are supposed to work as a team. This process should not be so difficult. You would fight just as hard if it was your child's education being discussed.
To those IEP parents who do not face these struggles: be thankful. Every once in a while, I encounter a parent who is shocked to hear of our struggles, because they've had such a great experience with their schools. I envy the ease you experience in advocating for your child's education. In fact, I often daydream about what it must be like to walk into a meeting with a list of requests, and have the district readily agree to them. One day, I hope to enjoy that as well.
Hearing about, or thinking of, "inclusion" should not trigger such anxiety. Someday, it won't, and I'll get to be one of the lucky parents who is confident that their child is getting the education they need. We'll all get there. Just keep jumping, and we'll do it together.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
Slippery
And the never-ending winter marches on...
We had more snow today. That's on top of the many inches of snow, and ice, that fell last week...which never got plowed. Our neighborhood is a mess. Slicker than snot, some might say (in fact, I just said that, not ten minutes ago). We live in an awkward part of the city, where we have a city address, and our children do not attend city schools (as we fall into a different school district), but we live in a different county than most who have a city address. Our neighborhood was annexed by the city at some point, so our services are provided by the city (as opposed to the neighboring township, which has its own services). This only becomes an issue on days like this when there is a lot of snow on the ground and we rarely, if ever, see a plow. Hence, the slippery roads. The snow finally started to melt today, only to refreeze, causing even slicker conditions. I was out a bit earlier this evening and almost crashed into some cars parked on the street (and you may have already read that this is also a problem in my neighborhood; seriously, it's a mess over here).
So now I'm worried that the kids' school bus won't be able to make it down the street tomorrow morning. I mean, there's basically an obstacle course waiting for the driver, courtesy of Mother Nature and inconsiderate neighbors. But, there's not much you can do about it on a Sunday evening...except tweet at the mayor, pleading for a snow plow to visit my neighborhood. So that's what I did. I bet that will be right at the top of his list tomorrow morning, ha. But, if nothing else, it made me feel a little better, and gave my husband a break from listening to me complain about it all.
If we could get through this week of school, without a delayed start or snow day, I might shed tears of happiness. They only have to get through four days, because they have a scheduled four day weekend (off on Friday and next Monday...I know, I don't get it, either...they've had enough time off, but whatever). I can't remember a time when I was more anxious for spring to arrive.
And by spring, I mean forty degree days and no more snow. That's not asking too much. This is Ohio, after all, and I learned long ago to not expect too much of the weather, for it has a mind of its own. Until then, perhaps the residents in my neighborhood should look into placing a bulk order for snow shoes and cross country skis. We could certainly get a lot of use of them right now.
We had more snow today. That's on top of the many inches of snow, and ice, that fell last week...which never got plowed. Our neighborhood is a mess. Slicker than snot, some might say (in fact, I just said that, not ten minutes ago). We live in an awkward part of the city, where we have a city address, and our children do not attend city schools (as we fall into a different school district), but we live in a different county than most who have a city address. Our neighborhood was annexed by the city at some point, so our services are provided by the city (as opposed to the neighboring township, which has its own services). This only becomes an issue on days like this when there is a lot of snow on the ground and we rarely, if ever, see a plow. Hence, the slippery roads. The snow finally started to melt today, only to refreeze, causing even slicker conditions. I was out a bit earlier this evening and almost crashed into some cars parked on the street (and you may have already read that this is also a problem in my neighborhood; seriously, it's a mess over here).
So now I'm worried that the kids' school bus won't be able to make it down the street tomorrow morning. I mean, there's basically an obstacle course waiting for the driver, courtesy of Mother Nature and inconsiderate neighbors. But, there's not much you can do about it on a Sunday evening...except tweet at the mayor, pleading for a snow plow to visit my neighborhood. So that's what I did. I bet that will be right at the top of his list tomorrow morning, ha. But, if nothing else, it made me feel a little better, and gave my husband a break from listening to me complain about it all.
If we could get through this week of school, without a delayed start or snow day, I might shed tears of happiness. They only have to get through four days, because they have a scheduled four day weekend (off on Friday and next Monday...I know, I don't get it, either...they've had enough time off, but whatever). I can't remember a time when I was more anxious for spring to arrive.
And by spring, I mean forty degree days and no more snow. That's not asking too much. This is Ohio, after all, and I learned long ago to not expect too much of the weather, for it has a mind of its own. Until then, perhaps the residents in my neighborhood should look into placing a bulk order for snow shoes and cross country skis. We could certainly get a lot of use of them right now.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
Shoes
I used to have a real obsession with shoes. I could go for at least a month and never repeat the same pair. This was way back in high school, though, when I didn't have much else to worry about; it was easy to spend money on shoes because I wasn't also paying to clothe three other people. When I was younger, most of my spending money went toward shoes. Fast forward about twenty years. After the kids came along and I began my long-time stint as Stay At Home Mom, I really didn't have to worry about the type of shoes that I wore. I selected shoes on how well they would hold up as I chased the kids. If I wanted a "fancy" shoe, I selected sparkly flip flops.
Now, though, I am (finally) back to working in an office, and my "mom shoes" aren't going to cut it. Part of the fun, for me, of returning to work was thinking about the wardrobe. As much as I adore my yoga pants and jeans, I am ready to expand my wardrobe again to include all the cute work clothes I've admired. This includes shoes. After years of longingly browsing through aisles of nice shoes, but just not having a practical need for them, you would think that shopping for work shoes would be an easy task. Wrong.
If I find a pair of shoes that my "old lady feet" (you know, the condition your feet are left in after years of wearing heels as a teenager/young adult) could handle (reasonable heel height, not too pointy in the toes), then they are either not available in my size, or just ridiculously expensive. My passion for bargain shopping has left me unable to pay more than $30 for shoes without having fits. There is nothing wrong with this, I know; being frugal is a good idea. But, when the boots you have are falling apart, and you can't find anything suitable to replace them, frustrations arise.
The other day, as I was sitting at my desk, the cap thingy on the heel of my boot fell off. I was able to pop it right back on, and move on with my day, but it later occurred to me that I will probably need to replace those boots soon. Crap. As cool as it would be to have a secret compartment to store lipstick, or string cheese (hey, it folds easily and you never know when you need a snack while you're on-the-go, right?!?), it's probably best to replace them.
So, today I was out for a bit and tried (again!) to find new shoes. Ugh. I just don't have the patience to shop anymore. I did find a pair, but decided to sleep on it; if I find time tomorrow, I'll swing back by the store to pick them up. Maybe I'll spend some time shopping online tonight to get ideas. I don't know. I could spend that time eating Oreos and browsing Pinterest (where I know I could look at shoes, but hey, it's more fun to repin home decor ideas and recipes I'll never make).
My other issue is this: by the time I find an acceptable pair of winter shoes, it could be spring, and I'll have to start all over. Again, ugh. (I trust that if you've read enough of my posts, you'll realize by now that these "issues" are kept in perspective. Save your "be thankful for what you have" comments, because I am indeed grateful, but I can't write about that every day.)
I'm sure all of this will work out, and I'll find the perfect shoes soon. Right now, those Oreos are calling my name. I hope your Saturday evening is a little more exciting than mine has turned out to be.
Now, though, I am (finally) back to working in an office, and my "mom shoes" aren't going to cut it. Part of the fun, for me, of returning to work was thinking about the wardrobe. As much as I adore my yoga pants and jeans, I am ready to expand my wardrobe again to include all the cute work clothes I've admired. This includes shoes. After years of longingly browsing through aisles of nice shoes, but just not having a practical need for them, you would think that shopping for work shoes would be an easy task. Wrong.
If I find a pair of shoes that my "old lady feet" (you know, the condition your feet are left in after years of wearing heels as a teenager/young adult) could handle (reasonable heel height, not too pointy in the toes), then they are either not available in my size, or just ridiculously expensive. My passion for bargain shopping has left me unable to pay more than $30 for shoes without having fits. There is nothing wrong with this, I know; being frugal is a good idea. But, when the boots you have are falling apart, and you can't find anything suitable to replace them, frustrations arise.
The other day, as I was sitting at my desk, the cap thingy on the heel of my boot fell off. I was able to pop it right back on, and move on with my day, but it later occurred to me that I will probably need to replace those boots soon. Crap. As cool as it would be to have a secret compartment to store lipstick, or string cheese (hey, it folds easily and you never know when you need a snack while you're on-the-go, right?!?), it's probably best to replace them.
So, today I was out for a bit and tried (again!) to find new shoes. Ugh. I just don't have the patience to shop anymore. I did find a pair, but decided to sleep on it; if I find time tomorrow, I'll swing back by the store to pick them up. Maybe I'll spend some time shopping online tonight to get ideas. I don't know. I could spend that time eating Oreos and browsing Pinterest (where I know I could look at shoes, but hey, it's more fun to repin home decor ideas and recipes I'll never make).
My other issue is this: by the time I find an acceptable pair of winter shoes, it could be spring, and I'll have to start all over. Again, ugh. (I trust that if you've read enough of my posts, you'll realize by now that these "issues" are kept in perspective. Save your "be thankful for what you have" comments, because I am indeed grateful, but I can't write about that every day.)
I'm sure all of this will work out, and I'll find the perfect shoes soon. Right now, those Oreos are calling my name. I hope your Saturday evening is a little more exciting than mine has turned out to be.
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