Monday

It's Monday-blah. (really I just wanted to use this picture)

This weekend I didn't have to work and by "didn't have to work" I mean I didn't have to go to my job in which I get compensated for monetarily but I did still have to go to my job in which I get paid for in hugs and kisses. Now which one do you think I prefer?? (Hint: the answer would be that later although on some days it might be the former.)
So, what did I do with ALL MY FREE TIME? I decided to bust out my domestic genes. That's right ladies and ladies, I unearthed my sewing machine.
My dear sewing machine has quite the story. See when this gift was given to me, I strongly disagreed with it. Or maybe just the giving of it. My husband, whom shall remain nameless, thought it quite the romantic present to give to me on Valentine's Day in the second year of our marriage. I, on the other hand, thought it was a hint at getting me to do more things around the house. I, being brilliant, thought this was screaming "Hey honey! I got you this super cool sewing machine so that you can make everything and cook everything and be the best at everything and have the house perfect and know everything! See here! Now THIS is a gift! How romantic of me! I love you!"
What he really was trying to say was, "Honey, I remembered that you said you wanted to learn how to sew and look, I remembered! I love you!"
It was quite the sore subject for awhile and thus remained untouched for a good two months. But then I finally put my big girl panties on and had this same husband show me to to sew a straight line. It's now been 4 years and I can still only sew a straight line but man can I sew a long one!
The boys gathered round and watched as if they were seeing something magical. I mean, their mother, actual mother was sewing. And oh the noises that were coming out of their mouths! Apparently all it takes is one curtain and two pairs of jeans to hem and you are lifted to a whole new level: My Mother CAN Do Things.

Shout Outs:
Planting bushes-that's right, I also pulled out my green thumb.*
Reading directions-handy.
Hearing your son compare your husband to Jon Stewart-priceless.

*which was quickly followed by busting that said thumb on the gate and pulling the same fingernail which occupies the tip of that thumb half way back and screaming for a good 30 seconds.