Hand-Painted Project: How To...

Girl in Air: How to Make a Hand Painted United States Sign

Ok...I don't have a machine to cut the pattern with, but I'm going to figure out how to make this project happen.  LOVE it!

Well Hello...

Say, it's been a while, has it not? I have been savoring the ease of Facebook's timeline tool for tracking my family's activities, but I really miss blogging. With the new school year starting, I think that I might just have to get back into this blog. I have several craft projects lined up, including (but never limited to) a bench makeover for my classroom, a new weekly schedule board for the classroom, an "office" makeover for my home, and finishing the refinishing of my kitchen cabinets...whew! Yes, I'm one busy girl, but nothing can stop me now...not even super Ethan, the one-year-old, attention-seeking, work-slowing, and always loveable boy who melts my heart...not to mention the other two who are just simply growing like weeds! So, stay tuned to see what's next in this pandemonium we call everyday life!

Paper in My Soup...

It all started with a super-hot mommy/daddy only date to this swank (sort of) restaurant that we LOVE, Emmy's, which has the BEST authentic German fare around.  It had been so long since we'd been last, it took me forever to decide upon what to order. After pouring over the menu for what seemed like an eternity, I finally chose to perhaps...maybe...possibly...try the fish.

I asked the waitress what I considered to be a completely normal question, to which I anticipated a completely normal answer: "Where do you get your fish?" WEEEEELLLLLLL...you'd have thought I asked how to concoct a nuclear bomb by the look on her face! She insisted she didn't have any idea from where the fish came and proceeded to WAVE OVER the manager...ugh! He leaned over our on our table with both hands, looked me square in the eye (he was totally in my personal space, btw), and said he could go "look on the box!" Really, dude????  Then, he inquired whether or not I was allergic to something in particular and if that might have anything to do with my question. "No," I said, and assured him that I would simply have the filet instead. I couldn't very well tell Mr. Manager that I preferred NOT to ingest his now highly-questionable frozen fish from a box, now could I?  After all, it was branded "New" on the menu...

So, there we were, munchin' on the appetizer schnitzel, when the next course appeared at the table...the homemade potato soup! YUM! This soup is usually my absolute favorite part of the meal, but tonight, it contained a little unexpected suprise. THERE I WAS...quietly enjoying the minor slurping of my lovely soup...when, all of a sudden, I began to detect a slight need for negotiation between my teeth and a stubborn potato peel. I chewed, I gnawed, I did everything but actually pick my teeth with my fork...and FINALLY freed the lodged bit of potato peel from it's place of entrapment between my pearly whites. Next, a dilemma...what to do??? Should I simply swallow said peel and move on to the rest of my soup? Did I dare take it out of my mouth and attempt to discreetly place it on my napkin? Did I even try to voice my relief that it was no longer causing my such angst? ARGH...decisions, decisions, decisions!

As a last resort, I finally chose the path of discreet elimination...I quickly and carefully grabbed the potato peel and placed it on the edge of my soup platter.  BUT, IT WASN'T A POTATO PEEL...IT WAS PAPER!!!!!!!!   There had been a tiny scrap of paper swimming just below the surface of my beloved soup the whole time...what a let-down. Again, I was torn as to what my course of action should be. If I called the waitress over, would it be yet another excuse for her to lose her mind, feign ignorance of the matter, and wave over the personal-space-invading manager? I had to find out.

When the waitress came over to fill our water glasses, I explained to her the situation with the paper in my soup, honestly expecting...well, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. In a much more professional manner than the fish scandal, she thanked me for letting her know and left, making her report to the manager across the room moments later. When she returned, she apologized and offered us one free dessert. I explained that both Hubby and I had sworn off sweets for Lent and that we could not possibly accept her offer. She then proceeded to try to get us to take the dessert home to our children. I declined again, but to no avail. She tried once more, but I declined once more, assuring her that I really just wanted the staff to know that there was paper in my soup...and that it could be in other unsuspecting soup dishes anywhere around the room. Waitress finally left us alone, after practically begging us to take a free dessert, and we finished our otherwise-marvelous meal.

Over the remainder of our dinner, I regaled Hubby with the thrilling tale of how, when I was but a child, I once thought that I was chewing on the fatty remains of a piece of ham I'd had in the school cafeteria, but it turned out to be a spider on which I gnawed. Gross. I guess if there's any consolation whatsoever in this funky tale, it's that I at least did not find a spider in my potato soup...just paper...

All-time Low...

You know, I really and truly thought that having to take stool samples from an infant was the all-time low.  I now, however, realize that it's the near daily squishy poo-left behind in Ethan's otherwise cute little outfits-that lead to the all-time lows...lowS...plural...keeps happening over and over...

The plastic grocery sack. I see it. It waits for me. Inside lurks the nasty left-overs of Ethan's "blow-out." Sometimes one sack...sometimes two...sitting, waiting, firmenting...the heinous fog laying in wait, ready to spring forth at the first opportunity...

And when I get home, I have no other choice but to just throw it all in the wash, right? WRONG! The soiled drawers have to first be RINSED...which means, of course, releasing said fog/smell/wretched thing...

Yep...gotta' soak that stuff, then spray it off, and hope for the best.

I could not ask for better care than that of the fine ladies who keep an ever-watchful eye on our boy. But, you know, I almost feel as though they are the lucky ones. After all, they do not have to wrangle the contents of the evil white grocery sack each afternoon.

Yes, these are the days of the all-time low...

V-Day...

That Eric Springs certainly had a trick up his sleeve this year! "Mrs. Springs, please come to the office." (Oh, no!  I've been busted!) "You have a Valentine delivery." (Wahoo...and all the kiddies get to see it.) Eric also BROUGHT TO MY CLASSROOM DOOR earlier in the day a box of chocolate covered strawberries from Creative Kitchen...yummo!!!! It was so funny...he told me later that three 8th grade girls working in the class next door put him through an inquisition about his relationship to me. Apparently, the whole thing ended in secretive giggles. Oh, the world of junior high.

We ended the evening with a super romantic date for five at LaFiesta when neither of us managed to make it home in time to cook dinner. :0) We did run into some friends there, so it ended up being a semi-mediumish sized group, hangin' out in the back room of a Mexican restaurant for V-Day.  Good times...all good times!

We're Baaaaaaaack...

It's been a LLLLLLLOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNGGGGG time since The Springs' have made an appearance at their "spot," but we're officially back! (Hey, how 'bout that Epcot pic, huh? Huh? Awesome trip! We had a blast and baby Ethan (4 mos.) was every mommy's dream come true...not a bit of trouble, even on the plane!)

With Ethan's birth and the swirl of whooshing time that I was actually off of work and Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year's Day and all of that now in the past, it's time to pick up where we left off. T-ball season is looming in the very near future for Garrett, and Eric has decided to coach a team for St. Paul again this year. Braden is LOVING Cub Scouts still, and is psyched to try and defend his pinewood derby racecar title again this year. Ethan is HUGE, now 21.5 pounds at seven months, and he is currently sick as a dog, so to speak. Poor dear has double ear infection and is on his third (yes, THIRD) type of antibiotic to kick the ear and respiratory infections in the tail! Let's hope this one works. Add to that the regimen of steroids and bronchial dialator...well...he's all doped up all the time! But, in a good way!

Working for a living stinks, let's just face it. Going back this time was extremely difficult, to say the very least. I really like my students this year, but leaving Ethan and the super cool routine we had going back in the late summer/early fall was terrible! Eric told me last week that I have a way with words and should write a book of vignettes about our life at home with three boys, and maybe throw in some stuff about school. Not sure anyone would go for that, but it was tempting...anything to be able to work from home!

With Ethan not sleeping much at night, time is a precious commodity around here right now, so I'm cuttin' it short for now. I'm super excited, though, to be back into this blogging thingy!
Sam Springs out...PEACE!

Braden, Our Little Clothes Horse...

 

After running errands today, the boys begged to go to the mall just to "hang out." It was just after 10, opening time, so I agreed since I knew there wouldn't be many folks there.  We stopped at a Crazy 8 sale and Braden picked out this super cool-dude outfit. 

"You know, Mom, I'll wear anything, but I really like this one."  -Braden

Garrett on the other hand, would not pick out a thing, and so left the store with nothing.  He doesn't like anything I choose, so I tried and tried to get him to pick something for himself...nothin' doin'! 

"I don't like that, that, that, that, that, or that!" -Garrett

I gently reminded GJ that he would soon inherit the super cool-dude outfit his brother just chose, to which he replied...
"What's 'inherit?"  When he finally got it, he assured me that he would never, never, never put it on...not ever!  Hey, it's green, his color of choice every time...what more can I do?