I am hardly what one would call 'artsy'. I do, however, have a recessive (very recessive) creative gene (more like if I'm bored and if the temperature is just right, I might, in the right lighting, create something slightly resembling creative). My parents gave me most of their other qualities like the 'wakeboarding' gene, the 'loud' gene, the 'very opinionated, and willing to share' gene.. But, not so much of the 'let's make our house look like the inside of a Better homes magazine' (mom), or 'let's turn barn wood into picture frames and sell them for millions of dollars' (dad) gene. Basically, my parents are very creative. This morning I made ma mama proud (yay!). It all began when I was accessorizing for work. I went looking for the usual array of bangles to add to my attire. Bangles are like my quintessential accessory. I have every color and therefore they go with every outfit on any day. As an added bonus, they make noise so no matter where you go it's like a warning sound of "I'M COMING." Perf. Anyhow, I have this huge jewelery basket (rivals Rachel Ray's bread basket in size. We're talking vast, man.) Every time I look through this basket I find something new. I have jewelry to match every outfit, and lots of it... Or so I thought. My catastrophe this morning proved I am too confident in my jewelry. I could only find two of the brown bangles I wanted to wear. EVERYONE knows you can't just wear two bangles, three is the magic number. My options were to a.) stay home and watch movies all day, or b.) problem solve/ create a masterpiece. Regrettably, I chose b. I disentangled some earrings I had never worn and used the pointy part to hold the bangles in place. TA DA! Brown hoop earrings. HUGE brown hoop earrings that I got three compliments on and was able to say, "Oh these old things?" Perf.
Craftiness strikes again: for Rodney's birthday I wanted to give him a picture of us so that when it's summer and I'm in Texas and he's in Utah and he thinks to himself "what did I used to do on Friday/Saturday/ Sunday/ Monday (you get the picture) nights?" he will be able to look at a picture and remember his sister, 1200 miles away, who he used to hang out with all the time; So much, in fact, that people would always think we were dating and not be shy about telling us which would make Rodney so mad because he thought it scared girls and that is why they wouldn't come up and talk to him. The truth is that we live in Provo and girls don't go up and talk to guys, because that would just be too bold, instead we are bread to be old fashioned and wait for them to make all the moves. Psh. Well, anyways, Rodney's not a cutesy guy so the pictures and frame needed to be way nondescript and masculine. I found this turnable frame at Target that holds two pictures, and can be put on a guy's desk without all his roommates being like, "dude, that's gay." When printing the pictures I decided- just to be corny- that i should caption them. So what Rodney got was this simple but modern picture frame with two pictures of us, captions included: "When family.. turn into friends." Terrible, i know, but i couldn't resist. I apologize ahead of time for when your roommates are like, "dude, that's gay." At least now you can't forget about me!
These kind of projects make me want to be crafty more and more. I can't wait to have my own house someday and have decorating projects all the time. If I'm expected to be a Stay-At-Home-Mom I might as well make the most of my down time and have a kick-A house. I'll be like supermom, only my weapons will be an IKEA Credit Card and a Williams and Sonoma catalog. I will also clean up messes before they happen, learn how to sew on my husband's buttons and master 30-Minute-Meals, just to fulfill the stereotype. Oh, what a woman in Zion I will be then.