Story of the Psychedelic Critters

Once Upon A Time I found an old box of art supplies.
I am talking about from high school art supplies.
I have no idea how they lasted this long or through so many moves. I really don't know why I decided to keep them.
But I am so glad I did because they inspired a new art project that I can do while the sewing machine is unavailable to me.
I decided to use the brightest bits of art things I could find for this project. Brightest ended up being some very old, half demolished, oil pastels that I had attacked with no amount of skill back in Freshman year of high school.

 I hadn't touched these in years and knew I had to do some serious experimenting in order to figure out how to use them again. But the challenge of only have about ten colors to work with, and their very temperamental way of adding those colors, was an adventure I couldn't pass up.
It should also be noted that my laptop was down and I didn't have access to a lot of my usual distractions. I blame that for this wild tangent.
I had used these before and remembered vaguely being frustrated that I hadn't created the kind of image I had mentally planned. This was most likely due to the fact that in high school I wasn't amazingly concerned about planning things out before I did them. That went for art, social interactions, presentations, and writing assignments.
I don't really feel like revisiting my teenager frustrations as well as art material, so I decided to plan out something somewhat simple.
My Lovely and I had been talking about barn owls a lot, so I decided to just mess about with doing a barn owl pastel work.
Using all my new grown up planning skills, I drew out the most basic idea of a barn owl. I tried to keep it rough so I wouldn't get distracted by the drawing the therefore not want to add colors. A constant struggle of mine.

I used many reference pictures and kind of mashed them up into my own design for the idea to work. I didn't just want to copy another person's picture.
We are expecting a little one soon, so I decided to make it simple and colorful in order to become a nursery art piece. Because even if it turns out terribly, the Spawn won't know the difference. Hopefully. I really don't know if I can raise an art critic. He will be disillusioned with me so fast. Let's keep him thinking Mommy is cool for as long as possible.
I knew that I wouldn't get a lot of detail work out of the pastels, so I kept myself thinking this was more of an abstract owl. And adding lots of colors that were not natural for barn owl, or any owls, helped with that. I just kept thinking, "This is ART" to myself when I felt I had gone too far with the crazy colors.
I liked the result.

Okay, more than liked. I was pretty darn impressed with myself. It is better in person, I promise. I just have a horrible phone camera and half lighting in my apartment to work with.
My Lovely walked by this piece multiple times. "I like that owl."
So I knew it was good. And he really likes barn owls.

Well, I can't leave a good thing well enough alone. So I decided to try my hand at it again.
This time I would go with something a little more naturally colorful. So the crazy colors would make more sense in the nursery. And I don't want the art in our little Spawn's room to be too grown up. Or all predatory animals.
So I picked an octopus next.
I will freely admit a lot of that decision was because I have a friend that is amazingly obsessed with octopus of any kind, and I knew if I could get her approval on it, I was golden.
So I sketched out an octopus using multiple reference pictures again.

I think it is safe to say I don't really understand how octopus are put together or their natural colors. I knew octo- meant eight, so I made eight tentacles. I saw a lot of big eyes so I got some of those in there.
But the real octopus pictures I was looking at had some amazingly creepy eyes. Rectangular pupils. I was a little worried that it would take away from the fun nature I was trying to create. And I don't want our baby terrified of his own nursery's art work.
So I colored everything as brightly as possible. I used every single one of the ten colors available and did a lot of finger smudging. I save the eyes for last.
Finally, at the very last moment, I decided I would make the eyes a solid black to look almost like doll eyes I would use for my other crafts. But I would stay true to the rectangular of the pupils by adding the shine to the eyes with a white pastel on top of the black that would mimic how it would hit a rectangular pupil, while still being cute. "It is ART!"

I tried. I think it is cute. Very appropriate for a child's room.
My goal is to get enough material that I can open up an Etsy store. I would love to add things like this octopus. So I was pleased that it turned out.
I got a lot of good reviews by friends and family that I spammed the social media feeds of with these pictures.
And that friend I mentioned that has a love affair with all things octo? She thinks he is amazing and decided that he looked like an Alphonse. So this is Alphonse, the psychedelic octopus. He is happy to meet you. He likes bubble baths and face hugs. Careful, he is not good at knowing when there has been too much affection.

I continued the experiment with a mouse. Because mice are supposed to be cute, right? Something like that?
And I figured big ears are good.
I attempted the same basic idea of the previous two. I wanted to bring in somewhat normal colors for a mouse, and also a few others to keep with the psychedelic theme.

Here is the result. I sketched him out first and colored him in a near panic, thinking it was wrong the entire time.
Can I tell you a secret? The mouse got away from me a little bit. I am not pleased with every aspect of him.
But the two year old I asked to review all three animals liked the mouse the best, so he gets to stay. Two-year-olds know their stuff, and who better to approve a nursery series than someone just able to communicate the sensibilities of children?
So there.

I plan to continue the series. I will frame the ones I like best for my personal nursery, and hopefully put the others away to sell on Etsy. I am thinking I can recreate a lot of the same animal. I will use the same positions of the animals, and sell them as they are made, as originals.
Because there is no possible way I would be able to recreate the exact same color patterns. I will sell them each as is, and take orders of certain animals, as long as people are aware they will turn out slightly different each time.
I suppose I could also get into prints if there were enough interest. But I try to not think that far ahead.

My Lovely has requested a cow next in the Psychedelic Critter series. I'm not sure why, but I think it has something to do with a multi colored spotted cow being hilarious to him.

I have no idea how this is going to go.
I will keep you all updated.
Let me know what else you would like to see in the color storm that is this project.
What art supplies do you still have in a box that you would like to pull out and make a mess with?
Let me know.

Smile Always.

The Bucket List Story

I have had many bucket lists over the years. Most of them have been thrown away or forgotten, or dismissed as impossible.
Here I will attempt to collect all of them together from over the years.
Not all of these items on the bucket list are still things I would like to do. I simply thought it would be amusing to compile them all together and see what they all looked like as one.
Wish Lists over the years coming soon.

Bucket List

[X] Get Published
[X] First Kiss
[] Drive a Tank
[] Dance in the Dark
[X] Kiss in the Rain
[] Sign a Book
[X] Shoot a Gun
[] Shoot every type of gun
[X] Learn to Sew
[X] Make a dress
[] Learn to Swim
[X] Start a blog
[X] Reread the entire Harry Potter series
[X] Read Jane Austen's classics
[X] Own the book The 10th Kingdom/Read The 10th Kingdom
[x] Learn to Paint
[X] Make my own Bridal Bouquet
[X] Get Married
[In Progress] Have a baby
[X] Answer why the Chicken crossed the road
[X] Write a short story
[X] Have a budget
[X] Learn to fold a fitted sheet
[] Make Soft Pretzels
[] Make Homemade Lasagna
[X] Draw/Paint Nursery Themes
[] Start TinkerSmith Etsy page
[] Sew [My Lovely] a formal vest
[] Make a door wreath
[...] Sew Monsters
[] Learn to Braid Hair
[X] Get a massage
[] Own a Home
[] Own a gun
[X] Learn Calligraphy
[X] Fill a Journal
[X] Save the day
[X] Get off all medications
[] Go to Yellowstone
[] Go to Ireland
[X] Unplug for a weekend
[] Unplug for a week
[X] Have one year of perfect Tithing
[X] Make Sidewalk street art
[] Have a living room picnic date
[] Have a Random Acts of Kindness Day
[] Ride a Tandem Bike with My Lovely
[X] Grow out my hair
[x] Find my drawing style
[X] Stay up all night, on accident, talking with My Lovely
[X] Take a midnight/earlybird impulse food run
[X] Have dinner ready when Lovely gets home
[] Send a child on a mission
[] send a child to college
[] See all my children married in the Temple
[] See my grandchildren

More to come, I'm sure. I'll add to this as I find more lists.
I got way more completed than I thought I would have.
Such a good life I have.

Smile Always

The Story of Hungry and Full

I am aware that the idea of reading a story of someone getting hungry and full probably sounds like the world's most boring topic. You may be scoffing before you even began "That is boring. What is the big deal? You are hungry, you eat, and you get full. Everyone does this daily."
The thing is, for most of my life, I didn't.
I would tell people that I don't get hungry or full and they wouldn't believe me. The idea that a person just didn't do that was impossible to them. I have been asked hundreds of times how it works for me, and when I tried to explain, I didn't have the words to describe the difference, and was told that actually was hungry and full, and I was being dramatic.
I'll try again. Because I now know the difference.

I used to be thin. Very thin. Try 116 lbs at 5'10.5" thin. Looking back on pictures of those times I am only now aware of how skeletal I was. It was normal for me. The skinny shaming I got really didn't help my understanding - just made me think people had a right to judge somehow.
If I wasn't reminded to eat, I would never even think about it. I would smell breakfast and want some, or have a craving for an omelette and make one. I would refer to my cravings or remembering to eat as hungry, because that is the word that was used. I knew something was different about my 'hunger' that other's, but how do you explain something against what you have never felt?
I often would only remember that food was a thing when I got dizzy or started getting a headache. It wasn't that I was making a point or skipping meals or being dramatic. I just forgot.
I would literally be confused why I was nearly falling over and then realize "Oh, crap. I haven't eaten in almost two days. I should really do that."
I would also get wicked cranky. Oops.
It was a chore to eat at most times. I liked the taste, don't get me wrong. I really enjoyed the process of eating. I just often forgot because I didn't have that little thing in my head that told me I was ready to eat. Chewing became an exercise of the jaw.

Probably more problematic for me was the flip side was also true. I didn't get full.
This was even harder for people to comprehend than the fact I didn't get hungry. That I could eat a meal and not get full didn't make any sense to almost anyone I told about it. Including family.
Here is how it usually went. I remembered that food was a thing. Either by smell, craving a certain taste, or accidentally making myself sick in some way because I hadn't fed my body. So I would go find myself some food. A lot of food!
I can't tell you how many times the word bulimic came up. It was actually how I learned of the condition, was people assuming I already had it. (Also, really easy to live up to expectations of a food disorder. Just stop mocking people, no matter the body type.) This was because when I remembered I had to eat, I would sit down to a lot of food, because I knew I wouldn't remember for another while.
So I would eat like 6 full burritos, an entire pizza, or half a box of spaghetti by myself.
Because I would only know when I was done eating if the flavors I were craving were satisfied/got boring, I lost interest in the meal, or more often I felt my stomach getting so stretched out that it started to be uncomfortable. I would eat until it hurt.
And that hurt in the belly because I just stuffed it with a family meal's worth of food? I called that full because I didn't have any other reference. How many times I had heard it said that full was when your body just told you to stop? Well, stomach threatening to unload or rip open because I ate so much seemed a pretty clear signal that I should stop eating. So that was what I called full.
And that is how you see a rail thin teenage/young adult girl down an entire large pizza by herself without an eating disorder ever coming into play.
I hadn't been hungry before, sat down to eat, and ate until I physically had to stop.

I honestly don't know if not getting hungry or full is a condition. I don't know if it is a certain kind of symptom or an uncontrollable disorder. I could never find any information about it because if I searched for any of those signs, all I would get were anorexia/bulimia results.
(Pro Ana websites are terrifying, by the way. And disturbing. And sick. And feed directly into the angst and insecurities and need to be unique but belong that resides in teenagers. Male and female. The fact that they often take an artistic viewpoint didn't help things. If we can't take them off the internet, we need to make it clear to youth that they are manipulation shrouded in poison and glamour before they ever come across one and find themselves intrigued.  And don't do so by showing the pictures on those websites. What is shocking and horrifying to the healthy is often artistic and interesting to those triggered. But I won't make this post about that.)

I don't know if others are suffering what I did for years. Because while I felt I was not having hunger and fullness like others, there was no way to really know, as I couldn't compare it with what everyone else was doing.
Until now.
I have gone through a lot of changes in my life. One of which was getting off all medications for the purpose of being ready to conceive a child.
I want to make it clear that I am now talking about the time between getting off medications that altered my chemistry (needfully!) and when pregnancy cravings and aversions kicked in. They are very different and I am now very glad it took us a few months to get pregnant so I could understand the difference.
When I got off the medications, I started losing crazy amounts of weight.
Before I had been on them I was around 116 lbs. When I got on them, I would eat in the same fashion I always had, but I then started to gain weight rapidly. I got up to 220 lbs by the time I got off them. Slightly more at my wedding. Most of that weight had come on in under a year. The medications helped with my unhealthy thoughts. But it completely ballooned me out. It was worth the trade off for me because my depression had been so bad, but be aware before you get on any medication what the side effects can be and be sure you are willing to have them.
When I started to lose weight so fast, I was pleased and took note of my numbers on the scale.
But something more drastic started happening to my eating habits.
I now remember with some amusement talking to my husband and sister in complete confusion.
"I just don't understand. I don't want anything in particular, I'm not craving anything. I just really need to eat!" "I'm not dizzy or anything, I just really feel better when I eat." "I just really want food and I don't know why."
Yeah, that is hunger. I would wake up needing energy and just really want to eat. I didn't feel like a bagel or an omelette or anything in mind. It wasn't about the flavor that would be best. It was that I needed some type of food in me to function. Weird. So I would eat more regularly.
I'm still kind of laughing at how I freaked out to Fullness, though. I was so confused.
"I'm not bored, and I still like the taste. My stomach feels fine. I'm just ... done."
My Sissy-poo's blank stare was perfect as she tried to explain that 'done' was what most people felt. They stopped eating when they were done. I was just so confused that I didn't need to eat until my stomach threatened rebellion. I wouldn't get sick of a taste in order to stop. I just got 'done' eating. I got full. And I didn't really know how to handle it.
I kind of felt like it was anti-climatic. There was no dire warning to end a meal. And at the same time it was so nice to be truly satisfied with a meal without having to hate the flavor or feel so over-logged with food that a nap was the only option. I could get up and move and continue my day and have plenty of energy until that really strange feeling of needing it came back.
I also found very quickly that I couldn't order as much as I usually did. When I fixed myself something or ordered something I had understood how much to put on a plate in order to get what I had considered full. Turns out I knew how much the entire capacity of my stomach was.
It took me weeks to remember to only serve up or order about a quarter or less of the amount I usually ate. You know, a normal American serving. I admit it probably took longer than it should have for me to understand I couldn't eat as much. It was so much a habit at that point to overload plates.

I can't express how enjoyable it is to get full. Hunger can sometimes be annoying. Because I see it as inconvenient to stop what I am doing because I really need to eat. But my energy is so much more consistent and there is something to be said for being healthy. And normal.
Fullness is such a blessing that I hadn't even realized I was missing out on. I can have just the right amount of food and suddenly feel great. Mentally fresh, body ready to do whatever I want it to. There is a huge satisfaction to a good meal. And I will try so many more foods.

Again, I have no idea of not getting hungry or full is a condition. I had many other things going on as well that were more pressing than the fact I wouldn't think of food for days on end. It wasn't because of the medications, I had that problem well before I started on them. I had it for as long as I can remember. It was just when I got off them and was otherwise in great health that I found the change.
I am also happy that as Hunger and Fullness came into my life, I have been able to avoid my Depression, most of my Anxiety, and many other of my issues since getting off the medications.
I am doing better than I ever thought I would.

Smile Always.

P.S. If you have any information about the inability to get hungry and full, and if it is actually a medical condition, I would absolutely love to know. I don't know if this is something I could pass down to my children or could come back to me later. I am enjoying health while it lasts, but would love to get more knowledge on what I have never even heard of another person experiencing.

Public Service Announcement: Witches

Public Service Announcement: Witches





The Cackling Community wishes to express their wishes that the term "Witch" only be used when speaking of a certified Cackling Member. Witch is an occupation very important to the community. Please refrain from using the term "Witch" when referring to a female of unfortunate personality. Using the term "Witch" without proper context has started a negative image of the Cackling Community and it's magic using Members.

A woman that turns a man down for a date or makes cubicle life unbearable is not a Witch, but an unhappy human being that you should probably ply with chocolate. We ask that you do not associate her with the occupation of Witch.

The public is also asked to stop depicting Witches as green complexioned with warts. That was an unforeseen side affect of the Cackling Community's Program of Immunization of the 1800's that has been discontinued. Depiction of green and wart ridden Witches harms the image of innocent Toad Coma patients and impedes the process of a magic-medical cure of this very serious condition.

The Cackling Community has been a beneficial contributor to society since the Pagan Corporation. Some of their greatest achievements have been the Black Cat Safety Patrol and the sensitive monitoring of fruit additives. We ask that simple steps be taken regarding the reference and depiction of Witches:

Black Brim Hats to be only used in official Cackling Community authorized advertisements

Complexions depicted to be correct as Chalk White or Ozone Blue

The term "Witch" to refer to only Cackling certified members





Thank you and have a magical day.

Mary Weathers





P.S: The pointed hat is a serious signal of position that we ask society to not imitate or desecrate. Black Brim Hats, our main supplier of aerodynamic hats, perfect for broom riders, has asked that the public does not misuse their product for human ceremonial candy accumulation. High Fructose Corn Syrup interferes with magic sensitivity and sticky fingers damage the carefully magic woven fibers of the hats. Lollipops adorned on hats like feathers cause unpredictable swerving and over-correcting on brooms and is a violation of the Humans Handling Magic Act.







Author's Note:

I wrote this PSA about this same time last year. I thought it would be fun to bring around again, as Halloween is coming up fast.

I have always been tempted to print off a few of these and pin them up in public places, just to see reactions.

Where do you think would be a fun place for people to find this PSA come October, and what other PSA themes would you like me to write?

Free Review! Paragon Cafe Story.

Now that I have your attention.
Free review time!

As many of you know, or should, if you are following this blog, I'm pregnant.
Along with pregnancy comes some interesting new relationships with food. I used to be a huge carnivore. Meat and potatoes kind of girl. It worked well, as my husband is also a carnivore. (Though he will undoubtedly point out that we are omnivores and have a wide range of likes about food and la dee da - Science.) I used to say, and often, that if the plate didn't have meat on it then it was a snack and not a meal.
Oh, how times have changed. Along with some very interesting food cravings (see Cravings - A Fruity Story post, coming soon) I got some interesting food aversions to go along with them. The worst aversion to food that I got because of pregnancy is the aversion to meat.
Anything meat bothers me now. I miss it. But the thought of meat makes me mentally see oil and fat and just gross. I can't take it. If I could, I would cut meat out of my diet completely for the next 20 weeks or so. But I'm low on that iron, so I need it more than ever.
Wailing on about my food woes is not the point of this post. The point is that I found a place where the meat is just as wonderful as I remember.
On a bad day where I was not going to cook (bad Domestic Goddess!) and knew I really needed meat, Lovely reminded me that I hadn't had any all week, we decided to try a new-for-us place in town. It had great, if not numerous reviews. I hadn't had a single friend I knew personally that had eaten there.
It was a mystery. A food mystery. We had to go to that side of town for reasons that day anyway, so we decided to give it a try.
The Paragon Cafe is in a hospital. It is the hospital's food source. Many of you are probably already leaning back away from your screens at just the thought. Hospital food creates images of separated gelatinous fear and unidentifiable solids. Bare with me.
The hospital in this town is geared almost entirely on the Maternity Ward. Yes, they have emergency care and ICU and all sorts of things, but this is Baby Central. We live in a high concentration of LDS and university students. And the only thing the LDS community are better at than making internet memes is making babies. So the Maternity Ward is the nicest thing you have ever seen. Think first class for hospitals.
Well, with a nice Maternity Ward comes a freak-ton of hungry postnatal Mommas. You would be hungry too after the work out of an all-nighter labor and delivery. So, the hospital determined that feeding these postnatal bellies should be a high priority. And I'm so glad they did. (Not only because we are having our baby here.)
The Hospital has hallways that don't feel creepy and medical. While we were walking towards the Cafe, following very well placed and easy to read signs, Lovely and I both commented that this didn't feel like a hospital. Yes, everything was cleaned within an inch of it's life, but it didn't have that sterile to the point of dead feeling. It felt and looked like we were in a nice hotel. Which is a much better association than hospitals, if you ask me.
We made it to the Paragon Cafe, and I was a bit shocked. I was expecting a hole in the wall vending machine and paltry grill type of situation. There were not very many reviews that I could find on the place. That usually means word hasn't gotten out, either because it was bad food, service, or just inconvenient to eat there. Paragon was none of those things.
The tables were very clean, well placed, and each had a small vase of fresh flowers on them. We felt them. They were real, and not even starting to wilt. There was plenty of light, both artificial, and coming from windows all along the room. It felt like a nice sit down place that we currently can't afford.
Surprised, but willing to at least look at the options, we went through to the food area.
(We have been known to go into places, and even sit down, but leave if the prices are too high. We are foodies, but we are frugal.)
The food area is unique. It is set up so all the seating is surrounding the area on three sides, separated by walls. There was not a lot of space dedicated to the food area, but they used their square footage well. There is a full salad bar. And I mean full. Anything you could want on a salad, and all items not touching. I inspected, not a single green was browning or wilted. All fresh.
There was a fountain drink machine, of course. Also a smaller version for what I like to call funny-water. Those energy/nutrient induced waters. There was a coffee machine, with hot cocoa packets next to it if people would prefer hot chocolate to coffee. (Which, in this town, is a pretty good bet.)
There was even an ice cream soft serve machine. With cup or cone options.
We were interested in meat, though. I needs it, and I needed to find a place it town that I could eat it. Anything greasy was out for sure, so I haven't wanted much of any fast food options, but as it was in a hospital I figured they would at least not deep fat fry style the food.
The Grill options were amazing. Not only did they have daily specials, but the prices are just beautiful. We are nearing broke, so are being careful. They had a chicken wrap that I was at once wanting. It was only 3.99. I ordered that, and Lovely grabbed a chicken sandwich. (In his usual style he asked the person working what their favorite things was and ordered that. It worked out this time.) He also grabbed a Guava drink, and I grabbed a candy bar to share for dessert.
The whole side wall was just bottled drinks, by the way. Everything from milk, chocolate milk, guava, to ginger beer. With all the normal sodas in between. It was a cooled fridge wall, and they even had muffins and cheese sticks in there. Cool.
The center area in the middle of all this had desserts. From pie, to cheesecakes, to fruit bowls, to I don't know what it was but it looked delicious. (You have come across those desserts before, don't kid yourself) It was very exciting, but I stuck with my little candy bar.
The system the Paragon Cafe used was a little different. The Grill master, as I will now deem him, printed off a tiny reciept of what we ordered at the grill. As he made it fresh, as is their way, we grabbed what ever else we wanted and headed to the little register at the corner wall divider from the seating. A very cheerful woman then scanned the receipt and our drink and candy, then said that any of the tables would hear our number being called very clearly, so we were welcome to sit down and be comfortable.
Oh, and that chicken wrap, sandwich, guava soda, and candy bar. It all came to about 11 dollars. I was giddy.
We sat down by a window. The wait wasn't long, but enough time to know the food was being made, not reheated. Then our number was called on the oversound.
Because the bill was so small, and they didn't have any pictures to illustrate the foods, we were expecting the portions to be fair if not small. 3.99 for a chicken wrap that includes chicken, bacon, cheese, lettuce, and ranch is a fantastic price, but usually means it might be the size of my handspan. Which isn't all bad, as I can't eat as much anymore with baby taking up all the tummy real estate.
The portions were huge. The wrap was as tall as my face. I needed two hands just to lift it. Very pleased. So pleased. And it was hot enough that even I had to wait before digging in. Lovely's sandwich was equally as huge. Fresh bun with chicken bigger than bun. He was chuckling with glee.
And they didn't skimp on any ingredients. You know those places that make big burritos but it is really all just filler? Not the deal here. The wrap was mostly chicken and bacon. Cheese plentiful. Good amount of lettuce without being a salad wrap. And you could taste the ranch in every bite without having to slurp.
I was so pleased. But then it was the test. Would I be able to eat the meats? Oily is my enemy, and bacon has a bad habit.
It was perfect. It wasn't greasy at all. Moist and hot and fresh, but I didn't feel like I was eating meat flavored oil bites, which had been what my mind thought with all food lately.
The wrap was huge. And I hadn't been able to eat more than about a yogurt cup lately before having to stop.
I nearly finished that wrap. While nearly doesn't seem that impressive, it was a huge achievement for me. Lovely polished off his sandwich with only a slight pause to let me try a bite (true love) and was happy to finish off my wrap for me as well. So yummy.
By the time we were done with those, we were almost too full to eat the candy bar for dessert.
It was a Carmello. Four tiny squares of chocolate and caramel. But we would have saved it for later, except it is blistering hot and wouldn't have even made it to the car without turning into a puddle of sticky at the bottom of my purse. So we each had two squares.
And we were content, satisfied, and full for the rest of the day.
I five starred Paragon Cafe at every place I could think to review when I got home.

You might have notice the picture at the top of this post is of neither a chicken wrap or a chicken sandwich. Well, it is because we were so excited about the place and the food and the yumminess, that I forgot to take a picture. Yes, I'm that person that Instagrams her food.
So I arm twisted (More like hand-held) My Lovely into going back to Paragon Cafe again. Because I needed more meat in my diet, and it had been the only place we found that didn't turn my stomach. And I was sure to order a burger, something I haven't been able to touch since pregnancy hit, and actually snap a picture this time.
That above is a simple bacon cheeseburger there. 4.95 after tax - I checked the receipt. And I was half way through it before realizing I had forgotten to put any sauces on it. No mayo, ketchup, or mustard. And I hadn't even noticed because it was so juicy. They didn't skimp on pickles (five circle slices) or tomatoes (Two thick slices) which is my usual frustration. Plenty of fresh lettuce as well, to the point that I didn't put it all on. And they give it to you open faced, so you can put on the toppings, or not, as you please.
That time Lovely had grabbed the chicken wrap because he liked the taste of mine he got from last visit. I couldn't get a picture because he isn't the Instagram kind and was too busy actually eating his food. (I know - weird. ;) right?)
We are very pleased. And I'm already wanting to go back.

I was not asked to give this review. I was not paid anything for the review (who is gonna pay this little blog for my rambling sassy thoughts?). But I love this place, and you should go and eat there.
And I'm suddenly craving Paragon Cafe so hard.

Smile Always.

Story of the Gender Reveal!

Story of the Ultrasound and Gender Reveal.
I knew we were going to have to do the Gender Reveal as soon as possible after the Level 2 Ultrasound that would tell us girl or boy.
One, because finals are here and we have a lot on our plates.
Second, because I can't keep good news a secret to save my life, and if we didn't have a reveal soon I would just end up blurting it out to everyone and the reveal wouldn't be a surprise to anyone.
So, to start things off:

It's a BOY!!!

So, if you didn't know, I was more than excited for this ultrasound. Not only because it would tell us the gender, but also to show us that Spawn was healthy and growing properly. I had been losing weight during this pregnancy.
While people seem to think this is amazing and convenient that I can lose weight, that baby is taking it, and it is just all good, I didn't feel this way. I in no way wanted to pack on the pounds, but a slow and steady weight gain is one of the first signs that baby is growing and healthy before you can feel any kicks. I had lost 12 pounds, and I was worried that Spawn wasn't getting the nutrients he needs.
I felt like a failure already whenever someone would say I'm so tiny, or that I couldn't possibly be half way along. I felt like they were saying I was starving my baby or something. I know they didn't mean it that way, but I was so worried already that baby wasn't big enough.
The ultrasound was my dear hope that I would be proved wrong and Spawn was fine and happy and growing.
It did that. Not only is our boy (which he was more than happy to show us in the second shot) right where he should be weight wise, but he is a mover.
I hadn't felt anything I could identify as kicks yet. Because I didn't know what they felt like. There were moments in my worst state of worrying that I thought baby must be too small or too weak to move. I was 19 weeks with nothing I could identify as baby and not gas.
Turns out, the placenta is anterior, between baby and belly, so that is why I couldn't feel him whirling around. The ultrasound showed us that moving is really not his issue.
We were late getting in to see the ultrasound. Half an hour in the waiting room became me as a ball of nerves, and my Lovely being able to identify every fish in the tank next to us, and how it ate. (He always goes to 'say hi' to the fish when we see the doctor.)
When we were allowed in and the pictures turned on, we could see the baby immediately. Compared to the first ultrasound where he looked more like a gummy bear or some type of tiny sea creature, now he seemed huge in comparison. And while he is only the size of certain fruits for now and weeks to come, he certainly has all the proportions of human. Except for still being skinny, he looked like a normal baby to me. I was/am thrilled.
With gender out of the way almost at once, we then got to take all the cute pictures while the Ultrasound Tech tried to get the pictures of all his bones, organs, and such that she needed.
He decided to be contrary.
We were in the room for well over an hour. Because no matter which angle the Tech tried, or how she had me toss and turn, even her shaking my belly quite hard to encourage the little guy to get to a position she needed, our baby boy was determined to only show her his feet and or rump. With some really nice profiles thrown in.
She would find a good angle, and then he would immediately roll, twist, or somersault away.
After an hour prodding and pushing on my belly, having me change positions every which way, and serious shaking, my belly was sore from the abuse and the Tech was about to throw in the towel and have us come back another day for the last few things.
It was then, of course, that the Womb Nugget got tired of the game and got with the program. We finished up, and headed into another room to get poked for blood tests, and talk with the Doctor.
The Nurse Practitioner that drew my blood is amazing. Or, as my Lovely said, a ninja. I didn't feel the needle go in at all, and she was finished and left the room before we knew it. Lovely didn't even see her go. Ninja.
The Doctor was pleased with the progress. I had gained two pounds since the last visit over and month before. It wasn't leaps and bounds, but it was on the right track (nevermind the huge breakfast I had that morning or that I was on my fifth liter-sized water bottle for the day. Meh. I'll take the praise). Baby is in the 43rd percentile, he told us. Which is right on the bell of the curve that he likes to see. He assured us that they would call if the blood tests showed anything unusual, but no news was good news. Then we just clarified some things and were on our way.
Because I was so mentally involved with everything, I hadn't realized that it had been much longer than we had been expecting to take. And we had to prep for a photo shoot with Sissy Poo. And I was Hungry!
So we flew through the store to grab the right paint color and supplies we needed for the reveal, grabbed some fruit for me to devoer, and a parfeit for the Lovely, and rushed home to meet Sissy Poo and get the picture.
Of course, I was so frazzled at that point, and very distracted with joy of healthy baby, that I made some mistakes.
We weren't prepared all the way when Sissy Poo came over. I wanted to surprise her with the gender reveal, because she was going to be the only one there. We were still in set up. So I showed her the ultrasound photos while we got things ready.
Then, in my brain fog (pregnancy brain is a real thing, people) I sprayed a sealant over the canvas we were going to use. So it was sealed. And defeated the purpose of canvas, which is to soak up paint. Silly me. Luckily I had a back up.
We were going to do dart painting. And did so, but the sealed canvas just washed it all off, so we were not dart painting at that point, and grabbed a squirt bottle for the paint and had Lovely just attack the second canvas. Because we needed a picture, and Sissy Poo had a paper to write.
So, we ended with the above. Me without makeup and frazzled. Lovely half asleep after the long day I put him through. And yet Sissy Poo is that good that I think that may be the best picture of me since my wedding. We just look happy. And her skills somehow hid the crazy of the day. Love her.
Then, of course, I contacted the family and told them the good news as I uploaded the photo. (When Sissy Poo was done editing, of course)
Then we were so tired that we ordered a pizza and Lovely fell asleep with I social media'd my way through another hour before falling asleep as well.
So, there you have it. Healthy baby. My fears abated. And a rather nice photo to show the interwebs.
And here is a bonus of our little guy.

Smile Always.

Story of the Final Trick

“As you can see, there is nothing up my sleeves!” The loud man barely plucked at his sleeves, showing a scant amount of wrist. The beautiful assistant felt his arms, somewhat too adoringly, and nodded to the packed seats.

Florence didn’t particularly like that. Sitting to the side of the stage where it would be hard for her little sister to see her, what with those bright lights pointed right at her cleavage for viewer’s pleasure, Florence picked up her drink. In the guise of taking a sip, she instead blew softly on the liquid.

The oils that had been added to the alcohol moved just slightly. As they did, the tall man on stage spread his arms wide to show the rapt audience the card he had summoned.

As his arms dropped, nearly a pound of cards fell from his sleeves. All of them that summoned card’s same designation. They sprayed all over the stage, making guests chuckled nervously as they tried to understand if it was a joke or not.

The beautiful assistant started squinting past the lights at the crowd. As her boyfriend looked about in a panic, the back of his badly made top hat had more of those cards tucked in the hem. The crowd of fancy guests were now more focused on the show than the dinner in front of them. They laughed loudly at what must now surely be a joke.

“Apologies!” He tried to recover. “Sometimes my magic is a little more potent than expected!” He sounded slightly nervous to Florence.

At his gesture, his assistant walked towards the front of the stage, arms wide to garner all the attention, as he brushed off all the cards he could find and mentally tried to focus on the next trick. Coming to join her at the front of the stage while his back stage crew tried to sweep the offending cards from behind them, the magician pulled off his top hat and showed the empty interior to the crowd of now very interested patrons.

He then reached in to pull out the expected rabbit.

Florence delicately swirled her drink.

His hand came back with a white, fluffy, cat. The feline was beautiful and about the right size, but as it let out a very loud meow, certainly not a rabbit. The dinner guests laughed and cheered the magician, none of them seeing the concerned look he passed his assistant. She returned the look, somewhat sheepishly.

Then the large white cat gave a mighty sneeze, and became a snowy owl in an explosion of feathers and fur. The audience was loud in its applause.

Stage hands were already rushing forward to take the owl. All of them looked a little pale. They certainly weren’t expected the change in the program, and all of them knew that they hadn’t set up the changes in the tricks.

As one took the owl, another handed the magician a very large cape of bright fabric the size of a man. Florence could see that he gave a very curt command and perhaps threat to the poor helper.

“For my last trick!” He attempted to guide the audience again as a visible sweat started down his face. “I will now make my lovely assistant disappear!”

Florence noticed that his voice cracked just slightly on that last word. Understandably. He had no way of knowing what would change on this last stunt.

The magician took his assistant’s hand and motioned for her to turn. It was as if to show the guests that she didn’t have anything on her she was hiding to aid the trick. Really, it showed all the angles of her very scantily clad form. Some men whistled.

Then she gave a pose as the magician covered her from view to the audience. He said some very fancy words of nonsense as he shook the red fabric dramatically.

Florence took a sip of her altered drink.

When the red fabric fell, Florence blinked out past the lights of the stage that were brighter than she had expected. The rush from the drink and magic made it very believable that she was confused, a subject of the audience, still on her dining chair with her drink in hand, now suddenly on the stage and the center of focus.

The dinner guests roared with approval. They thumped the tables and raised their glasses and spoke among themselves so loudly that it was certain that the story of the magician’s incredible show would be the story in all the papers by morning.

Florence stood up, trying to look embarrassed and pleased.

With little else he could do than pretend it was all intended, the magician stood next to her and tried contain his shaking. As was custom with assistants and female guests, he went to kiss her cheek.

She made careful that her face was on the opposite side of the cheering guests.

She spoke clearly in his ear as he leaned in close.

“You sneak about behind my sister’s back again, it is you that is going to be disappearing. Permanently.”

When he pulled away, the now famous magician looked pale as a death bed and smelled of a nervous sweat. She could tell from the look in his eyes that he now understood his position perfectly.

“Florence!” Came the barely contained hiss from across the room.

Stage lights turned to show the lovely assistant standing on one of the few tables unoccupied at the back of the room. The room was then so loud and breathless with their approval at her return that Florence couldn’t possibly hear whatever would have been said next. She left the stage confident that her message was received in all clarity.

*

I hope you liked the story.

I also write under the name Katty Jay, in case any of you would be interested in finding any more of my work.

Smile Always.