Little Miss makes her debut...

...into the card making world. Now, don't get me wrong, she as been stamping with me since she was just a little over 3 years old so she knows her way around a stamp pad and paper. But I have never heard her put on a demonstration like she did at our dinner table on Wednesday night.

Now, I know that there is no stamping at all in the following images, but we are going to forgive her that. The materials you see here are courtesy of Keli, who brought Little Miss a Simply Sent Kit box full of various cute papers and stickers a little while back. I have found that over the past few days, LM has been really enjoying using them even more than normal for her. So, let me tell you about the rest of this story.

As many of you know, every Tuesday at 1 p.m. on PACT channel 11 (on Time Warner Cable---Hey, TW!! I am still mad at you for making me miss a month of "Chuck") my friend Lydia has a 30 minute show called "Understand Blue Paper Arts", during which she features some incredible cards and projects, some simple, some more complex, but all worth watching. This has become one of my daughter's favorite things on television. It is my favorite thing on TV because the nice, comforting tones of Lydia's voice ALWAYS lull my rambunctious 4-year old into the blissful arms of silent slumber. I just never knew how much her little brain continued to process while she is sleeping until Wednesday night.

We are sitting at the table, and Little Miss asks if it is ok if she "makes a card" while she eats. I am intrigued at what might come of this, so I tell her that will be fine. She goes to her little box of goodies and comes back with a sticker sheet and piece of stationary. Then the magic happens. She looks up and me and the hubby and starts: "Tonight I am going to make a very cute little card with a star on it. This is so simple you can take it anywhere."

At this point I think that both of our jaws were hanging open as we realize that she is actually doing a demonstration, complete with product statements built right in.

"The first thing I want to show you is how to make a cute little pop-up star! You just take this sticker," as she retrieves the little "boom box" sticker you see on the left, "and fold it in half. You put half of it onto your star, then the other half on your card and stick it down, and you have this."

She stops at this point to do the Vanna White hands and showcase her lovely pop-up star that is proudly at the top of her card. Now, I know for a fact that I have never, not once, ever done any kind of pop-up card with, around, or near her. The fact that she figured out how to do a little fold to make the star come up makes me believe that she is absorbing all the stamping goodness she can from every source available to her at this point in her life.

Now she is convinced that we are thoroughly impressed, she moves on to her next step.

"These windows are very plain right now. But if you just look for some more stickers that fit in them, you can make it much prettier." Only four and already the concept of "embellishment" is firmly planted in her psyche. I could cry I am so proud. She pulls off two more stickers to

make her card prettier and puts them in the windows. "And there you have it! A pretty card with a pop-up star that didn't take too long to make!" She held up her card and waited for our reaction.

I kicked the hubby under the table and we both started to clap and tell her how great it is. I must say that her cabin looks like a fun place to visit. We already know it is in Texas (hence the Lone Star at the top and center) and it has good eats available, as evidenced by the chips and ice-cold lemonade just waiting for you in the window. I only regret that I did not have the presence of mind to grab the video camera and tape the entire event.

So, the next time you are perusing your channels be on the lookout for a new stamping show in town. And Lydia...you better watch out. Little Miss might try to steal your production team from you, and she isn't even a whole hand old yet...lol!

I hope everyone is having a great night, and until next time...Happy Stamping!

Kim

Thanks...

...I think.


Let me explain. Whenever I sit down to create a new card or work on a new art element I do some of my best work alone. I think more clearly, and I find it much easier to design when I am by myself, but I always have a "post-design" ritual.


If it is during the daylight hours, I run my card by Little Miss. The thing I like about this approach is two-fold. First of all, she is brutally honest. If she doesn't like something I have done she will tell me flat out, and let me tell you, if you haven't had your bubble burst by a four-year old, you should try it sometime. The second part of this gamble, however, is she will always tell me something nice about even my very worst cards, which proves to me that she has a kind heart and is empathetic to the feelings of those around her.


Either that or she is preparing for a future career as an HR director for some large computer/software corporation. I can almost hear her in my mind right now:


"Well, Tom, I'm sorry to have to come here today and tell you that your new tattoo that shows all of your co-workers nekkid running down the length of your arm is considered offensive, and the row of strangely accurate voodoo dolls lined up in your cubicle might be creating a 'hostile work environment' for those around you, so those things have to go. But, I must say, your latest manifesto against the 'Capitalist Corporate Man' that you had delivered to the CEO and the Board of Directors was all spelled correctly and did not contain a single comma splice. Nice job with that! Now, if you will just go with these gentlemen out the door..."


I bet Tom will even thank Little Miss for her approach one day.


Now, if it is after hours for the pre-schooler I go to the next best critic in the house, the dog...err...my husband. I finished this card the other night and showed it to the husband, and do you know what he said?
He actually looked right at me, and (most sincerely and without a hint of the danger that he was putting himself in) said, "Wow, honey! I really like that. It's like a real card."


I'll just let y'all digest that for a couple of minutes.

Now, those of you who are faithful readers know that I like to watch Discovery Channel, Animal Planet, all of those great nature type shows, so I'll try to relate what he said to one of those shows. You know those penguins all waiting to jump into the water that has that one killer whale just waiting right there for a tasty little Oreo-cookie looking treat? Now, you know that one penguin that gets all cocky and thinking that he is invincible so he is going in the water before everyone else? Does it ever end well for that penguin? It does not. And the last look you see upon his face right before he gets to meet Shamu all up close and personal like is the exact same look that was on my hubby's face about 0.2 seconds after he gave me that "compliment".


I haven't seen that kind of backpedaling since Ringling Bros. Circus was in town and one of those high-wire guys was on a unicycle trying to get from one end of the rope to the other. I have to give him credit, because he suddenly found a lot of great things to say about everything on my craft table, including a piece of cardstock that had a coffee stain on it and nothing more. I think I am going to have to catch him off guard a bit more often. It is almost as much fun as stalking my UPS man.


As for the card, I have spent a lot of time admiring from afar the talents of Michelle Zindorf and telling myself that one day I would try some of her brayer techniques out myself. This card is the result of my first try at it. Here are some details on how I made this card. I started using my Martha Stewart circle cutter (thanks for this tool, Martha!) to cut a 1 3/8" circle out of a post-it note. I stamped the image onto my stamp-a-ma-jig so that I could use it as a guide to line up where I wanted the moon to be on the glossy cardstock.


When I had it lined up I held down one corner of the imaging sheet so I could slip the moon mask into place. Then, it was time to get down with the brayer. I started by putting Baja Breeze ink over the entire piece of cardstock. After that I brayered/sponged Pacific Point and Basic Grey onto the bottom of the cardstock, then sponged some of the Pacific Point in the upper right corner. I lightly sponged a little Grey onto the top part of the sky.

I removed the mask and then lightly sponged some So Saffron ink onto the moon to add a little dimension to it. Next I lined up the imaging sheet so that the moon outline on the stamp met the edges of the masked moon on the cardstock, then stamped the house image using Black Staz-On. The green mat under the card is Kiwi Kiss that has been swiped with the same color ink as well as Basic Grey ink.

I encourage you to try some of these new masking/brayering/embossing techniques to see what kind of art you can come up with. And if your hubby/significant other tells you that this one looks like a real card, call me. I'll come post your bail.


Have a great weekend everyone! If you get a chance, check out my friend Lydia's booth at Maker Faire...it is sure to be great. And, before I close this one, I want to give a little "WooHoo" to my friends, Kim and Cecile, who were picked to be on the Stampin' Up Survey Panel. This means that out of thousands of folks across the country that entered a chance to be on this team, these two ladies were selected to help steer the direction of new products for Stampin' Up, and in return they are going to be getting some free goodies from Stampin' Up! I just can't tell you how happy it makes me as a demonstrator to see my customers benefit directly from the company. Way to go, ladies!


That's all for now! I'll be working on my regional swaps this weekend, so there will be new pictures up soon. I hope that everyone enjoys the weekend weather and until next time, Happy Stamping!

Kim

Does this sound familiar...

...to any of you ladies out there? Here is the situation:

Your husband gets sick. You, being the concerned wife, make an appointment for him to go see his doctor, take him there, take him home, go back out to the pharmacy to fill his prescription, come home and give him said medications, tuck him into bed, take care of the kid, the laundry, the cooking, the yard, etc., all while making sure to check on your husband in a regular fashion and make sure he is indeed still breathing and trying to recover. You do this for as long as it takes until he makes a decent recovery, at which time you still "pick up the slack" so that he doesn't get himself sick again.

Now, let us look at the next scenario.

You get sick. Your husband, whom you know loves you dearly, allows you to lay on the couch for about 20 minutes. Then he comes over and asks, "Hey, sweetie? The kiddo is hungry...what do I feed her?"

"She's almost 5, just ask her what she wants. Open the refrigerator. Throw a pop-tart to her. You have a degree from a decent university and spend your days making sure that a zillion people get the correct medications, you can figure this out."

"Oh. OK. So, what do I feed her?"

You get up off of the couch, look your sweet off-spring in the eye and say, "Honey, what do you want to eat?" You then give the child the item and lay back down on the couch so your body can continue trying to fight off the 101 fever you are now running.

Twenty more minutes pass.

"Mom? MOM? MOMMMMMYYYY!"

Husband: "Honey, be quiet. Mommy is sick. We need to let her rest as much as possible."

Child: "But I need mommy to help me find the glass slippers for my Cinderella."

Husband: "Honey? Can you tell me where the glass slippers for Cinderella are?"

At this point, I am glad that I have a half-way decent brain-to-mouth filter, because the first answer that pops to mind involves where I would like the glass slippers to go, and it is nowhere near sweet Cinderella's feet.

This scenario continues to play out until you decide it is easier to continue performing all of your normal day-to-day duties than try to get any kind of rest because your family thinks that mommy/wife has some kind of switch where we can put our fever and body aches on hold until everything else in their world is good. AARRGGHH!!!

I should not complain, I truly should not. I mean, I did get the hubby to fetch me a couple ibuprofen and a glass of tea to choke them down with. I'm just wishing that there was a time-clock installed in my living room so I could clock out for just a couple hours to get some really good rest. Then, to add insult to injury, my body decides to follow its weird Circadian rhythms and start waking up around 11 p.m., insuring that I will not get any appreciable sleep this evening.

Oh well. One thing is certain. Everytime a wife/mother/woman gets sick it reaffirms to her family that without her they are but a pizza delivery service away from reverting into a wandering tribe of nomads, scrounging around the land trying to figure out how to put the toilet paper on the roller or get food to magically go from the big cold box to the big hot box and then to the table on clean plates. This is a good thing for them to remember every now and then, even at the expense of a fever...LOL!

I hope everyone out there has a great weekend. I promise for those of you who are coming to the World Card Making Day event tomorrow that I am going to have my lysol hand cleaner out on the table and I will be sufficiently medicated to make it through our day. In fact, I am pretty sure that a couple hours of stamp therapy is just what the doctor ordered for me.

Until next time, Happy Stamping!

Kim

On your mark...Get Set...

...SHOP!!!

These might as well have been the words on Saturday morning as I participated in the contact sport that apparently is the Cabelas 4-hour sale.

You see, my intent was very clear. Cabelas had a spotting scope for sale that my Darling Hubby wanted very much. Very, very much. The only problem was he was working at 9 a.m. when the store opened so he would not be able to get down there to get one. I figured, being the dutiful wife that I am (hey...I see you snickering! You stop that! I could be dutiful for all you know!) I told him to not worry about it, that I would take Little Miss and we would retrieve the beloved scope for him ourselves.

And being the consummate shopper that I am I told him that I would get to the store about 30 minutes before the doors opened to make sure that I would be the very first in line for the much coveted spotting scope. Problem solved. I am sooo brilliant.

So, last Saturday morning I got up early (a sacrifice on my behalf as all of you who know me can attest to), got the child up early (an even larger sacrifice for any of you who understand that she is not a morning person either), and then she and I made our way down the road to Cabelas with my full assurance that we would find a deserted parking lot and probably run over to Sonic for a quick drink before we had to return to Cabelas.

I could not have been more wrong.

I should have known that there was an "issue" when I arrived and saw the Hays County Deputy Sheriff car sitting way up close to the store. The fact that the line o' humanity started at the doors and made it to the front of the Remington statue in the front of the store was a personal shocker. Of course, being me, I rationalized, "There are a lot of good items for sale here today. What are the chances that all 150 people in front of me want the exact same thing that I want?" Satisfied that I had silenced my inner worry-wart, I took Little Miss by the hand and told her that we just had to wait a little bit, like at Disney.

Now, being a constant student of the human condition and trying to maintain a cat-like awareness of my surroundings at all times (thanks EMS for helping to develop those senses!) I began to watch the folks in front of me as they purused the sales papers they clutched in their hands and listen into their conversations. It seems like whenever a $100 spotting scope goes on sale for $40, everyone wants one. I could see that this was not going to shape up to be the morning that I thought it would.

Again, rational Kim stepped up to the plate. "Now Kim," said my rational inner voice, "you know that Cabelas is prepared for this sale. The place is huge. They have to have just thousands of these scopes available...quit your worrying." So I did. For about 30 seconds. Then the doors to Cabelas began opening and Little Miss and I were caught in what can best be described as a tidal wave of Texans gaining momentum through the door. I told the little one to hold my hand and do not let go. I think I might have even said the word, "RUN" to her as we made our way through the doors.

What ensued once we were inside is difficult to describe, but I will try. Have you ever seen, or, heavens forbid, participated in one of those $99 wedding dress sales? You know what I'm talking about...throngs of women basically grabbing every dress that they see in their size, fighting each other for the chance to be the most refined bride they can be on their special day? Well, replace the brides with Texans. Everything is bigger in Texas, especially when there is hunting equipment involved.

Little Miss and I passed up the buggies (no way I was wasting time grabbing one of those) and ran back to where the guns/ammo/scopes are. I saw a mass of people surrounding one tiny endcap display. Some of these men were grabbing armfuls of scopes at a time. Don't get me wrong...it wasn't just the boys going after them. There were a couple of scrappy Texas gals in there that I wouldn't pick a fight with as well. I thought about sending Little Miss up into the crowd...figuring that with her short stature she could sneak in to the bottom whilst everyone big was fightin' it out at the top, but then I thought better of it. I could just see me calling my mom and saying, "Hi Mom! You know the granddaughter you have here in Texas? Well, she's been arrested for biting some rancher's ankles trying to retrieve a spotting scope for me."

At this point I see the very last scope get taken off of the shelf by one of the aforementioned scrappy gals, and let me tell you, the look on her face said it all. She wasn't giving up her prize. Just at this moment, divine providence smiled on me. To my direct right was a Cabelas' employee. I whispered the Little Miss, "Look sad. No, really sad, like someone hurt our dog." (OK, so I didn't tell her that anyone hurt our dog, but I did have her turn on the full pout lip and the big doe eyes.) All is fair in love and hunting equipment.

I turned to the employee and said, "Please sir, do you have any more?" No wait, that was Oliver. Oh, ok. I asked him if there were any more scopes anywhere in the store. I told him that my anniversary was coming up (it is) and that I really wanted to get one for my husband (I did) and that it was the only thing in the world that he wanted (ok, little white lie there, but I figured I had better sell it).
He almost whispered, "Follow me" and you can believe that I did.

Now, I believe in keeping a very low profile in these situations, but I also believe in trying to hedge my bet, so I did a couple of things. First of all, the Deputy Sheriff that I saw earlier wasn't there for crowd control...he was part of the crowd. Part of the crowd that didn't get his scope. So I gently tapped him on the shoulder (don't want the guy with the unconcealed weapon getting all jumpy up in there) and quietly whispered, "Come with me...there might be more scopes back here". He nonchalantly fell in line behind me. I figured if there was going to be any mob scene happen back there, he could at least fend off the crowd while I got my scope.

Then, there was an older Texan in the crowd that I tapped as well. I figured that if none of these younger punks were going to show some respect and give up one of their 10 scopes to this fella then I would at least do the right thing. Our little line followed Mr. Cabelas all the way back to the employee doors and tried to look like we were examining duck blinds so as not to draw attention towards us.

In a couple of minutes the employee comes out with a big basket that is full of scopes...probably about 25 in all. I get one, the rancher gets one, and the Deputy gets two (hey, the man had 2 boys...so I figure that was fair enough), and me and the Little Miss thank Mr. Cabelas profusely and then go to retrieve a buggy to finish looking for some other items. I gave my dear daughter the instructions that her job was to sit in the basket with the scope box behind her and scream bloody murder if anyone even dared to try to touch it. I bought her allegience with a stick of Orbit "Sangria Fresca" gum. Hey, don't judge me. It wasn't real sangria....and you would have done the same.

About the time we start heading back towards the firearm section to get a couple boxes of ammo that David wanted the poor Cabelas' guy got spotted with his basket o' scopes and was mobbed almost as badly as I attack the UPS guy on Stampin' Up day. It was not pretty. Had I not been well trained as a medic (first question...Is the scene safe? I think not this time.) I would have jumped in to help him. Thankfully I had the safety of my kiddo to think about....the Cabelas' guy was on his own.

Luckily the rest of our shopping was uneventful, but I have to say this: Do Not believe what you see when Cabelas sends out a "4 hour sale" flyer to your house. It is more like a "40 second sale". And if you happen to see me walking very quickly and quietly in any direction...you might want to follow. Chances are I am about to get what you are looking for...LOL!

Thanks for sticking with me through this fun story. I hope everyone has a great night. I'm off to set some new stamps!

Kim

You ever have one of those days....

...where you try to do something that is good or right or downright HEALTHY FOR YOURSELF and it just turns on you?

Let me describe my Tuesday to you. Warning...this post has absolutely nothing to do with stamping/crafting of any sort, unless you count "creative parenting" as a craft/hobby. It is also going to be long. Very, very long.

My sweet little A is taking swim lessons. I have wanted her to have them for the last year because little miss 4-going-on-14 thinks that she is invincible and can swim just fine and dandy, thank you very much. I finally convinced the dear husband that this is a good use of some of his hard-earned $$ because our sweet little daughter is just like him. She can't swim and she won't listen to a doggone thing I have to say to her. Just. Like. Him.

So, I get her all signed up for swim lessons and I start thinking to myself, "Self, you know that gas is $4 a gallon, and your Weight Watchers meetings would probably go better for you if you actually got up off of your butt and did something that could be considered exercise every now and then." Then I proceeded to convince myself that the way to go was to buy a bicycle trailer, the kind that you sit your kid in, and tow her happy little self to and from swim practice. "It would help the environment," my little inner voice said, "and then you can have that piece of Starbucks espresso chocolate at night without quite as much guilt." Enough said. The trailer was purchased.

Here is where the fun starts.

I manage to somehow decipher the directions on how to put the thing together, even though they were a combination of Chinese, Swedish, and some other indecipherable language as yet to be determined. Once I was convinced that my child's life would be relatively safe in said trailer, I decided to take it for a little test drive. You know, find my zone, get my biking legs going, all that good stuff. I mean, I have been riding a bike since I was 5, so how hard can this be?

Well, apparently, when you are 38 years old and out of shape and your main source of exercise is stamping background images onto paper it can get a little interesting. We took our first test ride down to the park that is about 6/10 of a mile from my house. By the time we got to the park, I had discovered a couple of things about myself.

1. 32 ounces of water is not enough for a 6/10 of a mile trip down the road. Apparently, my body mistook the Texas heat for the Serengeti Desert and decided that I was going to go into shock if I didn't drink at least 3 gallons of water RIGHT NOW. I now pack much more water.

2. Just because your bike seat says "Designed for Women" does not mean that it was designed for you, woman! My butt hurt in a way that I still cannot fully understand nor describe. Of course, the fact that I have extra butt probably accounts for most of that, but I'm working on it, dang it!

3. I know lots of cuss words, but when you are taking your 4 year old for a bike ride, you have to say them with your "inside" voice. The one inside your head. Oh yes, I could have given the guys on "Deadliest Catch" a run for their potty-mouthed money with the thoughts I was thinking.

4. I am overweight for a reason. In the words of my dear friend, M., back home in Alabama, "I like the taste of food and I do not like to sweat." I figure I am going to have to change one of those two things and it might as well be the sweating part because that comes pretty easily in Texas in the summertime.

So, we survived the trip and I figured that the pain would go away and we are going to bike to and from swim practice (roughly 2 1/2 miles round trip here folks). Monday goes really well. Little A and I wear our helmets (racing grey for me, pink kittens for her), she swims like a water bug for her new swim coach while I try to remember how my labor and delivery nurse turned a diaper into an ice pack for my butt when I got home, and all was well with the world. We return home and I am very pleased with myself.

Tuesday comes. We ride the bike to swim practice, but on the way I hit a pretty significant "bump", i.e.---huge crack in the sidewalk that jars my body in a way that I am pretty sure caused some kind of damage. Nevertheless, we make it to practice and all is well with the world. Until we come out, and see The Issue.

My front bike tire is completely, totally devoid of air. Flatter than the proverbial pancake. Now, knowing my dear little one's "flair for the dramatic" I decide to play it cool and try to make this fun. I tell her, "You did so great at swim practice, let's go on an adventure walk!" with as much enthusiasm as I could muster at this point in time. Off we start on our roughly 1 mile trek home.

Before we made it 100 yard LMDQ (little miss drama queen) begins to get "Melty". This is a word of her own making, and is used as a description of any situation in which she begins to sweat. Proper usage in a sentence usually goes like this: "Moooooommmm, I am getting all melty!" Now imagine that whine coming out of a 44" tall version of my husband, complete with the Scarlett O' Hara back of the hand to the forehead look. Yeah. Good Times.

Another 100 yards produced an even more pitiful whine of "I am running out of energy." This from the child who is 90 miles and hour with her hair on fire from 7 a.m. until 10 p.m. every single day of her life. No naps, no breaks. All day long. Suddenly she is running out of energy? Did I get to "run out of energy" while I was in labor for 22 hours? I did not. I was not even given that option! Now, I know there are probably a thousand well thought out, correct answers for this child at this point, but what I came up with was, "Well, if you would stop whining you would have more energy to walk." Truthful, yes. Compassionate, no.

We continue on, and about the 4/10 of a mile mark she says to me, with complete sincerity, "I just can't take this anymore....we are never going to get to ride our bike again!" Now, I know this child, and she is pretty headstrong. She is about to go into full meltdown mode on me as I walk up Brodie Lane with her. We stop walking and I give her a big drink of cool water and try to rationalize. The bike will get fixed. We only have to walk a little farther, and all we have to do is take it one step at a time. "Honey, if this is the worst thing that happens to us today, we are going to have a great day." She looks at me, completely non-plussed. Just as she is about to let the alligator tears roll, I remember that there is a brand new bag of popsicles in the deep freezer in our garage.

"Hey baby," I said to her, "when we get home today, you can have two popsicles." A smile finally made it across her face and we made the rest of the walk whine-free. So, let this be a lesson to you all. Sometimes, all you have to do is put one foot in front of the other. And sometimes, a little bribery with a kiddo is not a bad thing!

If you stuck with it this far, thanks for reading! I hope everyone has a healthy, happy day, and I promise a stamping post a little later on. Until next time, Happy Stamping!

Kim