PRODUCTe Jewelry

On dreary, drab Monday mornings, I live to look at pretty things. It’s even better if I dream these pretty things will someday soon end up on my doorstep. Good thing for me (and all of you) that my awesome sister-in-law has finally opened her own Etsy Shop where anyone can buy her gorgeous, handmade jewelry.

Most years for Christmas I have received a piece of PRODUCTe jewelry, and I wear them almost daily. I have a couple of pairs of earrings and one fabulous chunky blue necklace, but of course, I’m craving more. Just yesterday I sent an email to my husband with the subject line “Birthday Gift” and the following picture.

Debut Necklace

Ahhh, covet.

You can see (and buy) more at PRODUCTe.etsy.com. What are you doing?! Go!

Happy Birfday to dem!

When I was 17-years-old I headed off to college, moving closer to my sister in the process. I was so excited to be near her, to hang out with her, to finally hit the bars with her. There was only one problem (besides the fact that I was obviously too young to hit any bars): She was eight months pregnant.

Wait for it…..

WITH TRIPLETS!

So, she really wasn’t spending too much time in bars or anywhere that wasn’t the hospital bed that resided in her living room. She spent three long months on bedrest, as her teeny body attempted to nourish these three little creatures inside her. When they were born, healthy and beautiful, I remember holding them at the hospital and not being able to describe the feeling. It wouldn’t be until I had my own little girl that I had any idea what that feeling was. Unconditional love.

The Wedding Party

These amazing kids are the ones that taught me how to be a mother. Being their aunt was the best training I could’ve had for the job that awaited me. And even now, when my own life and family has taken away much of the time I used to spend with them, my heart holds an extra-special place for these kids.

Happy 8th birthday, Tyler, Dylan and Sloan! Please stop growing up, so I don’t feel so old. I love you.

Logsdon's Tubing

Cousins

Where Wine and JPGs Intersect

After four long weeks traveling around the Midwest, celebrating birthdays, anniversarys and government holidays, the Peters family finally was able to sit on our collective asses in Kansas City this past weekend. As if the universe knew how much our asses needed the break, the temperatures dropped and the rain took over, giving us two days of movie watching, bed residing glory. And holy crap, we sure did need it.

Saturday night I took my glass bottle of wine down to our creepy, damp basement and finally finished uploading the pictures from our family reunion in Colorado. I know I’ve already posted some of these, but there are a ton more that have been added. You can view them below or by clicking here.

I figured as long as I was already locked in the dungeon, I may as well go ahead and upload all the photos from our Labor Day weekend at my parents’ cabin in Council Grove, Kansas. My sister and her family joined us on this mini-vacation, which mostly consisted of my daughter doing everything my niece did and following her around like a puppy, giving me the opportunity to read magazines and drink lots of beer.

Is it weird that everytime my daughter has seen my husband or I with a drink in the last week she’s said, “Your beer?” Maybe we’ve been on vacation a bit too long.

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Have I mentioned we may be moving? No? Well, that’s probably because I don’t handle stress very well and the back and forth and yes and no and decisions and issues that buying a house entails tend to make me catatonic. But whether I accept it or not, we’re probably going to move soon. Soon could mean next month. Soon could mean in six months, but it’s happening. And no amount of avoidance will change that.

Here’s the problem, right now we live in a wonderful and crappy neighborhood. Wonderful because it’s in a vibrant part of the urban area of my city. Wonderful because I love walking down to the shops near my house, or taking Lu for a lemonade on the Plaza while I enjoy a fancy cocktail. Wonderful because we’re right by my favorite park in the city, where we walked with Lucy and the dog last night for a picnic and playtime. Wonderful because it’s near our dear friends’ house and we can pop by whenever we feel like it. Wonderful because the neighborhood preschool has transformed Lucy and has finally let me work freely because I know she loves it so much there.

Unfortunately it’s crappy because of the crime. Crappy because we actually keep a gun (shudder) in the house for safety. Crappy because of the homeless people that walk up our block talking to themselves. Crappy because the public school system is broken and there is no way I can send Lu there in three years. Crappy because our house is tiny and we step all over each other on a regular basis. Crappy because the house is infested with ants every summer. Crappy because I have to park on the street in the winter and scraping the ice off the car at 6 a.m. is not fun business. Crappy because it’s a 40 minute drive to work.

So, we’re moving. It’s time. And I know I should be excited, and I will be. But first I will have to say goodbye to the first house I’ve lived in since moving from my parents’ place at 17. The place where my husband and I got our dog. The place where I became pregnant. The place where my husband proposed to me in bed. The place where I brought my baby home from the hospital. The place she learned to crawl, talk, walk and run. I have to say goodbye to the most wonderful home I’ve ever had. And though I know bigger and better things are to come, it makes me a bit weepy.

New House
I took this the day we moved in, three and a half years ago.

Signs You’ve Spent Too Much Time With Family

When your family member, complaining about how he has a BB gun because he can’t get a real gun as he has an assault charge on his record, starts talking about how he’s just like Rodney King. You reply with some snarky comment about, yes, he IS like Rodney King. Just like him. Except that he’s white, from the middle of Kansas, lives in his mommy’s basement and was being arrested for the third time when the assault “incident” occured. He then retorts with, “Oh, I get it. You’re liberal on everything except police brutality, Megan.”

Then your brain explodes out your ears.

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