New Sink

Its 6:30 a.m. and I’m a ball of emotions today, and not just because I woke up at 4:30 this morning. I’m headed to Dallas for a two day derivatives training. Tonight will be the first night I spend away from Raegan. A part of me is stoked! (is that still an acceptable word to use?) I feel like a free woman, I’m going to have a king sized bed in a nice hotel all to myself and no dishes to wash, baths to give, or laundry to hang up, ahhh sounds like bliss! On the other hand I’m super concerned about Philip and Raegan and how they will fare without me. I did everything I could think of to help them out while I’m gone including: paying daycare for the week, baking chocolate chip cookies, washing and setting out Raegan’s cups on the kitchen counter, putting snacks for Raegan in little ziplock baggies, and nursing Raegan before I left this morning. Thankfully it is just a short trip and I will see them tomorrow night, which by the way is mine and Philp’s 3 yr anniversary! Three years sounds like such a short time, like Philip and I should still be newlyweds just figuring each other out. Our relationship is so much deeper and stronger than that though. I know him better than I know anyone else, I think we’ve got each other figured out, and things are good : ) Maybe because we met in August of 2003 so it is almost like a 7 year anniversary than a 3 year one. Anyways, I love him that’s all that really matters!

PS- Here are a couple new words Raegan has been using recently: car, go, & hot

PSS- I'm not sure if I ever shared pics of our new sink (it was an early anniversary gift)

OLD SINK

NEW SINK

17 month update

August 23rd, 2010 - Happy Birthday DAD!
Tomorrow Raegan will be 17 months old
new words:hot
ball
balloon
apple
mine
yuck
shhh
new signs:potty
shhh

Saturday morning I made this fruit dip that I found in Health magazine.
Ingredients: • 2 cups skim milk • 1/2 cup light sour cream • 1 (3.4-oz.) package vanilla instant pudding and pie filling mix • 1 cup Jif Reduced Fat Peanut Butter • 1/3 cup sugar • Apple and banana slices (or any fruit of your choice)

Directions: • Combine milk, sour cream, and pudding mix in medium bowl. Whisk until smooth. • Stir Jif peanut butter until evenly mixed throughout. • Combine peanut butter and sugar into pudding mixture; mix until well blended. • Serve with sliced apples or banana chunks. Store in refrigerator. If dip becomes too thick, stir in additional milk. I'd suggest halfing the recipe unless you have A LOT of people to feed. We used apples, strawberries, and cheerios to dip in the fruit dip. Raegan ended up in just her diaper, sitting on the table, eating straight out of the mixing bowl. Raegan loved it; I was worried about the peanut butter, but no signs of an allergic reaction. So maybe she has grown out of her peanut sensitivity, I sure hope so!

New Addition

This is where our tv should be...

The panel of it is being fixed and it has been sent far away for a couple of weeks. We must be pretty bored without it, because we decided to get a puppy! Meet Lincoln Brewster the 5 month old bassador (1/2 basset hound, 1/2 lab). He is one year younger than Raegan. We think he is cute!

This was his mugshot from the pound. A family found him and kept him for a month, but when no one claimed him, they took him to the pound and then Philip went and saved him = )

Playing with a ball at PetsMart.

Playing in our backyard. He seems to be a very good, mild-mannered dog.

Indulgence

This morning I used up the last bit of my Mother's Day gift card to heaven... I mean the Aveda Ihloff Salon and Spa, which if heaven is anything like, then I'm ready.

When I get there Katie (my facial guru) pours me a glass of ice water, which has a refreshing taste of cucumber from the fresh slices floating in it, ahhh. She takes me back, and we make small talk as I soak my tired feet in a warm water tub with lots of bubbles. She asks how my day is going as she uses a brown sugar scrub on my feet and lower legs. Then she gently lifts my feet out of the water and pats them dry with a soft towel and places them into spa slippers.

It gets better...

We enter the next room, which is darker with walls painted a calming grayish almost purple color and a dim light above with a cover that looks like pressed leaves inside of glass. All I hear is the sound of ocean waves. She leaves so that I can get undressed, put the white spa robe, and get under the light weight covers. When she returns she places a cylinder pillow under my knees to give my back better support. While she was gone she selected 3 scented oils that she thought would be good for my facial. I close my eyes as she places one finger on my forehead and waves the scent in front of my nose. I take a deep breathe in and smell a sweet but strong citrus scent, then she places her finger back on my forehead, I take another deep breathe in and smell number 2 a sweet soft maybe lavender scent, one more time for number 3 which I thought had a more manly smell maybe sandalwood. She never tells me the mix of what scents are in each oil. I tell her its between 1 and 2 and after repeating the process for those two oils, I select number 1; I like it.

She begins by gently moving my hair out of the way and wrapping it in a towel. She then waves the scent over my face again and then presses her hands down on each edge of my cheeks/ears, this calms me instantly. She then wraps my face with a warm towel leaving an open space for my nose and mouth so I can breath. She gently removes the towel wiping off any dirt or makeup that may be on my face and uses soft cotton pads and eye makeup remover to wipe across my eyes. She places eye pads over my eye lids as she turns on a bright lamp to get a better look at my skin. She examines my face and tells me things I like to hear like the problems I think are huge are not that bad. Then she tells me the plan, turns off the bright lamp, and uses a paint brush to paint a cool exfoliation cream on my face and neck. I love that feeling, I used to love getting my face painted not for how it looked but for how it felt when someone was painting on my face. Anyways, while the cool exfoliant is drying with the steam machine over my face, she massages my feet and lower legs. then uses a warm towel to clear it away. Now that my pores are open, its time for extraction, out come the eye pads and bright light again. This part isn't a lot of fun, but doesn't last long, and beauty is pain, right?!? She uses a foaming cleanser to wash my face after the extraction part and then paints my face and neck with a hydration mask. While the mask is soaking in, she massages my hands and arms, and tells me that I carry tension in my body and she can tell because my limbs don't want to relax and I don't even realize it. Next she massages the hydration mask into my skin and uses pressure points and then wraps a warm towel around my face, leaving breathing room for my mouth and nose. She dabs on some eye cream under my eyes and then a toning/firming spray on my face, pats my face with lotion and then sunscreen. Katie then asked if I would like a scented oil scalp massage, since she knew I'd be running errands later that day and thought I might care if my hair was oily; umm, no I don't care, and yes I'd like that scented oil scalp massage. Before ending my facial, she stretches my neck using a hot towel under my head and gently pulling with each hand, then pushing the hot towel on my shoulders downward. Next my she stretches my arms above my head while I'm still laying down and then helps me sit up and pulls my arms past my toes while I lean forward.

Wow, I can't tell you how much I never want to leave that place! If you ever have a chance you definitely should go there!

Next I indulge myself a little more by going and getting lunch at Chick-fil-A. I get a Chick-fil-A sandwich (which I drench in Polynesian sauce), a cookie parfait, and a large water. As I'm chowing down I remembered one of the nicest compliments a lady once gave me and that was, " you don't look like you eat Chick-fil-A a lot." = )
After spoiling myself for half the day I go to pick up Raegan from daycare, where she's having so much fun playing she doesn't want to leave!

This week's confessions:

8-17-10: Today I saw a man at work with his fly unzipped and didn't have the guts to let him know.

8-18-10: Today I ate an Oreo for breakfast.

Miss Smarty Pants

Tonight I asked Raegan if she wanted to go "night night" and she said "no night night" - wow, am I in for it! lol!

Then she tested her boundaries again when she climbed up on the fireplace, which she knows she is not suppose to do. I started to count to 3, just like my mother used to do :/ I held up my finger and said "one" then Raegan held up two fingers and said "two." Philip and I looked at each other wanting to be proud of our lil 16 month old for knowing that 2 comes after 1, but she still got in trouble for climbing on the fireplace.

Raegan also has learned how to throw things in the trash on her own. She'll walk to the kitchen, lift the lid of the trash can and places the trash in; she always closes the pantry door when she's done.

Not only is she a lil smarty pants, she also modeled for the first time today for The Lime Zebra. She wore 4 different outfits from the store: black and pink polka dot 'R' shirt with dark skinny jeans, white tank top with Thunder designed jeans, a leopard heart dress, and a pink cheetah shirt with a hot pink tutu. We will get a cd of pictures soon, but here are a couple Philip took on his phone.

We love you miss priss!

Workaholism

This is my favorite excerpt (thus far) in Rework by Jason Fried & David Heinemeier Hansson

"Our culture celebrates the idea of the workaholic. We hear about people burning the midnight oil. They pull all nighters and sleep at the office. It's considered a badge of honor to kill yourself over a project. No amount of work is too much work.

Not only is this workaholism unnecessary, it's stupid. Working more doesn't mean you care more or get more done. It just means you work more.

Workaholics wind up creating more problems than they solve. First off, working like that just isn't sustainable over time. When the burnout crash comes-- and it will -- it'll hit that much harder.

Workaholics miss the point, too. They try to fix problems by throwing sheer hours at them. They try to make up for intellectual laziness with brute force. This results in inelegant solutions.

They even create crises. They don't look for ways to be more efficient because they actually like working overtime. They enjoy feeling like heroes. They create problems (often unwittingly) just so they can get off on working more.

Workaholics make the people who don't stay late feel inadequate for "merely" working reasonable hours. That leads to guilt and poor morale all around. Plus, it leads to an ass-in-seat mentality-- people stay late out of obligation, even if they aren't really being productive.

If all you do is work, you're unlikely to have sound judments. Your values and decision making wind up skewed. You stop being able to decide what's worth extra effort and what's not. And you wind up just plain tired. No one makes sharp decisions when tired.

In the end, workaholics don't actually accomplish more than nonworkaholics. They may claim to be perfectionists, but that just means they're wasting time fixating on inconsequential details instead of moving on to the next task.

Workaholics aren't heroes. They don't save the day, they just use it up. The real hero is already home because she figured out a faster way to get things done."

--Besides the fact that I believe this passage fits the public accounting environment perfectly, I also really like the fact that in the last line of this passage these two male authors wrote, "because she figured out a faster way to get things done."