Keepin' in Clean

My apartment has been driving me nuts lately. I just want to hire one of those cleaning services to come in just once to get it back under control. It isn't dirty, it is just...lived in at this point. 2.5 years (!!!) in one place will do that. As I looked around my room tonight, I picked a few things up, dusted some nooks and crannys and then finally resigned to catching up on some tv to decompress after yet another really trying day at work. I was thinking about how have come pretty far (as I am sure my parents will vouch) in regards to my organizational capacity from childhood to now.

Alright I wasn't exactly the kind growing up who had the spotless room. In fact we can probably go as far as to say I was a slob. An organizational disaster. How I managed to dress myself, keep track of my belongings, and not get eaten alive by something hiding under the piles that accumulated in my room is beyond me. Oddly, among all of this mess my dad used to point out to people that I did have an outstanding memory as we would be playing with Playmobile (anyone? Playmobile? Only the greatest childhood toy along with American Girl Dolls to ever grace my little hands. Wyatt & Ava...get ready.) Back to the story. So we would be playing Playmobile and there are like 143,563,863,097,001 pieces that you end up owning with Playmobile. So my dad and I will be playing with the skiers and he would be like "Andrea- where is the other little green ski". Ok, we are talking about a tiny little plastic ski that was no more than an inch long. Well I would truck off and bring it back to him just like that. I have a memory for where I last saw things in my space. (well I used to- old age is taking its toll).

Well the days of clothing piles, disorganized Playmobile, ski, dance, violin stuff strewn about, and an accumulation of drinking glasses has come to end. (Much to my parents delight).

I won't go as far as to say I am super clean or even organized. But I definitely have learned the value of keeping things a bit tidier as I have grown up. I guess that is what 415 sq. feet of living space will do to you.

Basically this post is a Thank You to my parents. I honestly have no idea how you two didn't completely loose it with me as a child. Unbelievable amounts of patience. Now you have a daughter who color codes just about every file in her office and has corresponding pens to match the file system. Oh how one grows up.

Where you a messy or overly clean child? I can only hope that my desire for organization just continues to grow!

Being an Adult: Whatever that Means

I remember when I was younger (lots younger) and thinking that twenty-five was old. Like really old. I also had images that twenty-five meant you had your shit together. You were supposed to know stuff- like real stuff when you are twenty-five. Well here I am at the ripe age of twenty-five and while I will admit I have a long and undoubtedly very interesting and blessed life ahead of myself I can't help but think about the things I thought I was supposed to know how to do or understand at this point and realize that I may actually be farther away from figuring these things out than when I was eight. Here are some things I thought any twenty-five year old would have under control:

1. What you are doing with your life.
2. A job you love and are really good at.
3. The idea of what "comes next".
4. What you want out of everything. Everything.
5. A group of friends that provide endless entertainment.
6. A flawless relationship.
7. Love.
8. Classy bedding. Adults sleep in nice bedding. And their beds are always made. Perhaps even when they are in them.
9. A stocked fridge and pantry. And the culinary skills to just whip something up when they get home.
10. Lots of heels that you wear all the time.
11. A place for everything
12. A house with enough bedrooms for all those little tiny humans you plan on birthing any minute.
13. People who report to you. Kids, employees, husband, etc.
14. Eating breakfast. That you made. With your significant other. Reading the paper.
15. Adult clothes.
16. You magically exceed being five feet tall.
17. No crying. Except when you are really sad. Your a strong woman that people respect.
18. Coming home to your very own dog.
19. Credit cards.
20. A nice shiny new car.
21. Vacations with family, friends and significant others.
22. Christmas trees. You start having your very own real one.
23. Season tickets to the ballet or philharmonic.
24. Brunch. Every weekend.
25. Lots of skiing. Every weekend (after brunch naturally)

I will leave it at twenty-five. But the point I am getting here is that life is anything but what it seems. I have a hard time not beating myself up for not even coming close to being the "twenty-five year old" I am supposed to have turned into. While some of my ideas of what being an adult ended up being plain wrong- some of them are still things I hope I grow up into.

Right now I am a perfectly underdeveloped twenty-five year old who buys too many sponges:

Can't make her bed in the frenzy of the morning routine (and sleeps with bears):

And who survives on cereal, coffee and wine (when things get really rough):

Baked with Love

On a trip to IKEA (oh how many of those there will be in the next two-three months!) the lucky find of a set of "woodland creature" cookie cutters inspired me to battle the roaches (ok ok there really aren't roaches anymore, but I still have to poke fun at the situation) and the small kitchen and whip up some of my grandma Tory's rubber cookies (a gingerbread type cookie with the best frosting you will ever taste). This was my first attempt at the cookies and while they couldn't even come close to the delish ones I was so lucky to savor as a child, they were not bad.

My grandma had a scalloped cookie cutter which I have safely tucked away for when I have my own place (eeee! Oh wait! I DO!) to cut out her cookies. I wanted to do something special since I knew I would be taking these into work. That set of "woodland creature" cookie cutters just so happened to have a HEDGEHOG!! My department has kind of adopter the hedgehog as a mascot from some of our company materials. (Core values, etc.) For good measure I also made a few Idaho cookies with my new Idaho cookie cutter that I have yet to use. Here is what transpired:

 Making some dough

   Rolling and cutting

 Cut out hedgehogs

 IDAHO!

 Version #1 of the frosted hedgehogs

Some Idaho Love

Version two of frosted Hedgehogs

The cookies were a huge success at work and totally worth the tedious process. I always forget that rolling and cutting cookies takes like 6 hours longer than you estimate. The hedgehogs are pretty cute and I already have plans to use the rest of my creatures in the set of cookie cutters!

Happy Easter

Happy Easter Everyone!

I have had a glorious day eating brunch, dying Easter eggs and buying Easter candy to take over in an "Easter Bag" for Ben (since I felt like that is something my mom would do- it oddly felt needed). Ben cooked up a delish brunch of french toast, and quiche. I brought fresh fruit and champagne for some classy Easter mimosas. After we polished off brunch sitting on his rooftop deck we dyed some fabulous Easter eggs, which has always been a favorite holiday past time of mine growing up.

Ben and I have celebrated many a Easter's together ( a specific memory of Sun Valley, an Easter egg hunt and getting our picture taken with the Easter bunny when were much too old for such things jumps instantly into my head).

The eggs turned out fabulously. And I was especially excited to see two of the eggs turn out in a very Barbie-appropriate pink shade! The photos hardly do those ones justice because they were the color of Barbie's corvette and pink motorcycle...A-mazing. Tonight I am enjoying an Easter dinner complete with Stawberry Shortcake!

In the spirit of Easter I have to say a few words about my faith and what it has meant to me over the past year:

I had no idea that I could ever have gotten to this point in my life on my own. And by on my own I mean without my family, without my girlfriends/sisters being in the room next door to rub my back and watch Friends marathons with, and being unfamiliar with my surroundings. And I will be the first to admit that my faith and my conscious effort to explore that faith have been put on the back burner in comparison to other aspects of my life. But I do look back and see in all those dark times, where I was unsure if I would come out on the other side alive and functioning, I was there silently praying and relying on my faith to guide me and provide the support when I felt completely unsure of what I am doing. And I must say that my decisions have turned out well...and I have ended up in a fabulous point in my life where I know I am doing ok and learning and growing each day. Today was a prime example that the Lord provides, and even when you are not actively seeking Him, He doesn't forget you. I have been provided with such wonderful friends and I know that there are people watching out for me, which is one of the most comforting things in the world.

The Man in My Life

For those of you who haven't spent time with Creamsicle, (1) you are missing out, and (2) let me introduce you to the Man in my life who has been there for years and years!

Creamscicle, Creamy, or the Creamster (whichever category you falling to: readers, friend or family might know him by something different) was purchase by my hard earned childhood dollars from a store in downtown Boise after seeing him with my mom and lusting after him and his fuzzy glory for weeks on end. If I remember correctly he set me back a whopping $12 (in children's dollars that was like $103,487,099.04). He was the fluffiest, softest thing I had ever laid my hands on. He was so fuzzy you could hardly find his little eyes.

He originally looked something like this little guy:

Now after many travels (I think he has only missed one rafting trip in our relationship due to the fact that the chance of flipping our raft and losing a bag was a real possibility), auditions, recitals, break-ups, ski races, and any other life events he started to loose some of his fluff and pristine cream color. My dad used to give "creamster" (dads name) baths in a big glass bowl in our kitchen and then would dry him and take the time to "re-fluff" him with a comb. (And we wonder why I have daddy-daughter complex). Well after all these years, Creamy is still the man in my life, even if a little battered and de-fluffed:

I am sure you are wondering what spurred this gem of a post. Well I have been thinking of meaningful things to get Wyatt since I feel so absent and like the Aunt he will never know. But I was hoping to pick him up his own Creamy to go through his life adventures with. When I was looking online I ran across this photo on Flickr by millerburmilla of her trusty Creamsicle and her belly. Remind me to take a photo like this when I am starting my family, because I am sure that Creamsicle will be around for that event as well.