Dust off the crafty skills, it's almost fall after all.

I could be one of those cave people who never had a calendar but would always have a general idea of what time of year it is based on what I'm doing. Obviously, snow versus sunshine is a good way to cheat that in northern Wisconsin, but aside from that, I always get the itch to craft and make things at the end of summer and fall. Always. It's like my brain needs a good dose of vitamin D to function correctly or something.

Long, long ago I used to do a post where I would showcase what I've been doing and I always had it coming up on Saturdays. I feel like I need to bring that back both because it's fun to showcase what you've done but also because I need an excuse to buy new crafty things.

Basically, Matt isn't buying my "I just want it because it's pretty" routine any more and is demanding I use it or lose it.

It's like I'm living in Nazi Germany over here between this and his demand I keep my book collection to the 5 giant shelves he built me.

Nobody should have to live like this.

Anyways.

If you know me at all, you know I love to get fun mail and I love to send fun mail. Sadly, we're a bit broke right now so I have a couple of fun, random packages almost ready for some friends, just because I love them, and I can't get them in the mail because they aren't totally complete yet. Soon. But what I do need to get in the mail are some birthday cards and some thank you cards. I pretty much depleted my store of them right after I had Penelope and I'm so serious when I say- you absolutely MUST write a hand written thank you when you get a gift. Don't be a douchebag. It takes less than a minute and it's so appreciated.

So these are what I whipped up using scraps of things I had from earlier projects. That's my next thing, making cards with the left over pieces from scrapbook pages. Because truly, I hate to waste usable pieces when pretty paper is usually around $.60 a piece. It adds up when you see how much I buy because I have a problem that I refuse to admit to.

The next couple of weeks I'm making gifts for people and I'm taking pictures as I go. There is one in particular I'm not even sure I'm going to gift to the person because I really like it. Matt says that's not cool and that there will be others I can do.

Buzzkill, he is.

Starlight on Willow Lake - EXCERPT

Hello, lambs! Today I have something kind of fun and different than what I usually have for you, an excerpt for an upcoming book tour! On September 2 I'll be reviewing Starlight on Willow Lake by Susan Wiggs, part of The Lakeshore Chronicles for TLC Book Tours. Ahead of the review tours, several bloggers are revealing teaser excerpts to you, and I'm happy to say I am stop number 4!

For Mason, money was a tool, not a goal. And when he had to get from a remote mountain town to an international airport, he was glad he had plenty of it. Within a few hours of the aborted ash-sprinkling, the three of them were in the first-class lounge at Christchurch Airport, booked on a flight to New York. From there, they’d take a private plane up to Avalon, north toward Albany, along the Hudson. He’d instructed his assistant to find an amphibious plane so they could land on Willow Lake and tie up at the dock in front of their mother’s place.

The entire journey would take about twenty-four hours. Thanks to the time zone change, they would arrive the same day they left. The journey cost in the neighborhood of thirty grand, which he paid without batting an eye. It was only money. Mason had a knack for making money the way some guys made wooden birdhouses in their garages over the weekend.

Adam was on the phone with someone in Avalon. “We’re on our way,” he said. Then he checked the clock in the lounge. “We’ll get there when we get there. Yeah, okay, just sit tight.”

“Did you get more details out of them?” Mason asked.

“She fell down the stairs and broke her collarbone,” Adam said, and zipped the mobile phone into his pocket. “It’s a miracle she didn’t crack open her head or get crushed by her motorized chair.”

“I can’t believe she fell,” Ivy said, her voice trembling.

“And what the hell was she doing at the top of a flight of stairs?” Mason asked. “The entire downstairs of the house has been adapted for her.”

“If you bothered to go see her more than once in a blue moon, you’d know they finished installing the elevator,” Adam stated. He was in charge of her day-to-day care, living on the premises of the lakeside estate. Mason had taken the role of looking after provisions, finance and logistics for their mother, a role more suited to his comfort zone.

Mason batted aside his brother’s criticism. “Screw that. I don’t get how the hell she managed to fall down the stairs. She’s a quadriplegic in a wheelchair. She’s incapable of moving.”

“She can move her mouth and drive the chair with her breath,” Ivy pointed out. “She’s been working with her physical therapist on extending her arms at the elbow, so that can help with her mobility, too.”

“I don’t get why she was upstairs, either,” Mason said. His heart was pounding so hard that his chest hurt. He and his mother had their differences, but when it came down to moments like this, he felt nothing but love and sorrow. And now a surge of panic.

“You’re sure she’s all right?” Ivy asked, bringing a tray of cappuccinos and croissants to the seating area where they were waiting.

“Other than her usual state of rage and bitterness, yeah,” said Adam. “She’s okay.”

“Jesus.” Mason raked his splayed hand through his hair.

“No, the caregiver on duty was named José.” Adam consulted the email displayed on his phone.

“Fire the son of a bitch,” Mason ordered.

“I didn’t have to,” Adam said. “He quit. They all quit. None of her home health aides have lasted more than a few weeks.”

“He couldn’t have stopped it,” Ivy pointed out. “According to Mrs. Armentrout, Mom took the elevator upstairs without telling anyone.”

“Armentrout? The housekeeper?” asked Mason. “Then she should be fired, too.”

“You’re the one who hired her,” Adam pointed out.

“My assistant hired her. With my approval.”

“And she’s terrific. Besides, it’s the caregiver’s job to look after Mom. Not the housekeeper.”

“She needs assistance, not to be under surveillance,” Ivy said.

“Maybe she does, if she’s sneaking upstairs.” Mason spent more time than anyone imagined thinking about their mother. On that day a year ago, their father had suffered the ultimate tragedy. Everyone—himself included—said their mother was lucky to be alive.

She didn’t consider herself lucky, though. From the moment she had been told the spinal injury meant she would never walk again—much less ski, salsa dance, cliff dive, run a triathlon or even drive a car—she had raged against her fate. Anyone who dared to mention to her face that she was lucky to be alive risked a tongue lashing.

After multiple surgeries, drug therapies and intensive rehab, Alice had agreed to move to Avalon to settle into her new life as a widow and a quadriplegic, determined to find what independence she could. Avalon was the town where Adam lived, on the shores of the prettiest lake in Ulster County, just a couple of hours by train from New York City.

***

I can tell you right now I'm really excited to read this book and review it for you. Stay tuned, because not only will I have a review for you, but you'll have a chance to win a copy for your very own! 

Sugar

You guys. Seriously. You need this book in your life, especially if you at any time were overweight or generally felt bad about yourself in some way. This book... all of the feels. I'm not even kidding.

Sugar - Deirdre Riordan Hall

I’m the fat Puerto Rican–Polish girl who doesn’t feel like she belongs in her skin, or anywhere else for that matter. I’ve always been too much and yet not enough.

Sugar Legowski-Gracia wasn’t always fat, but fat is what she is now at age seventeen. Not as fat as her mama, who is so big she hasn’t gotten out of bed in months. Not as heavy as her brother, Skunk, who has more meanness in him than fat, which is saying something. But she’s large enough to be the object of ridicule wherever she is: at the grocery store, walking down the street, at school. Sugar’s life is dictated by taking care of Mama in their run-down home—cooking, shopping, and, well, eating. A lot of eating, which Sugar hates as much as she loves.

When Sugar meets Even (not Evan—his nearly illiterate father misspelled his name on the birth certificate), she has the new experience of someone seeing her and not her body. As their unlikely friendship builds, Sugar allows herself to think about the future for the first time, a future not weighed down by her body or her mother.

Soon Sugar will have to decide whether to become the girl that Even helps her see within herself or to sink into the darkness of the skin-deep role her family and her life have created for her.

Admittedly, when I started the book I wasn't sure if I was going to like it. Admittedly, this book took me awhile to finish because for awhile it was just so easy to set down and not feel emotionally pulled into it. I will tell you that I set the book down after a marathon reading session, and when I picked it up again the next day I was so very thankful I stopped when I did because the last third of the book I was full on ugly crying and I would have not gone to bed the night of my marathon reading session. I'm not even kidding you when I tell you that all of us, in some way, can see ourselves in Sugar. 

Sugar is a high school girl who so happens to have some of the worst self esteem but she's also fat. Her mother is morbidly, bed ridden obese and Sugar is basically a slave to her mother. Constantly having to bring her food, soda, do various things for her, etc. Not that her mother is appreciative, instead she is verbally and emotionally abusive to Sugar but Sugar doesn't even recognize it. Her older brother Skunk, is a total asshole who is far more cruel to Sugar. He's verbally and emotionally abusive but he's also physically abusive. Sugar's oldest brother, Fat Henry, has moved away and gotten more fit over the years but it doesn't seem like she is close to him at all. 

So while her home life is absolutely awful, school is even worse. Kids are horribly cruel, as you can imagine, but Sugar holds it together. You just feel so awful for Sugar because her life is truly awful. 

Then she meets Even. 

Even is new to school, he's attractive, he has the potential to be the popular guy on campus because of his looks alone, but he takes a liking to Sugar. At first she believes it to be another cruel prank set into motion by classmates, but over time she realizes that Even actually likes her for her. Just as things seem to be turning around for Sugar, absolute tragedy happens and you will ugly cry. You will. If you don't, you don't have a soul. The last third of this book was just everything for me. The author writes in a stunningly beautiful way that you feel like you were Sugar at some point. Honestly, the author must be a reformed fat girl because I don't know how she would have captured the exact self talk that Sugar does so perfectly. 

I'll admit, I have terrible self talk. It's really awful and I'm ashamed to even admit it. I struggle with weight and some days I want to throw the towel in and just say screw it- being fat isn't that bad. But then I realize how terrible I feel and how I don't want to feel that way anymore but it means making some really hard, and sometimes scary, changes. To say I identified with Sugar and her emotional over eating is an understatement. 

I loved this book so much that I absolutely could not give it less than five stars. I can't. It's sad, it's enlightening, it's emotional, it's hopeful. It's everything you want when you need a book to give you every emotion there is. I'm telling you right now, order this book and just love it. You can order it through Barnes & Noble and Amazon. You can also follow the author on her webpage or on Twitter. 

Emotional eating and math are the worst.

I have a feeling this post is going to upset a few people, maybe in the very least piss enough people off where they feel like saying incredibly mean things about me and declare I am "the worst parent in the world" on Twitter. You know, like the time I dared to complain about a Disney theme park.

(That's a true story, by the way. For weeks I had the worst emails of people actually threatening to call CPS because I complained about dirty tables and the horrific prices on bottled water. Here's a lesson for you, don't ever bad mouth Disney EVER. There are legions of fanatics that will cut you.)

Anyways.

So as most everyone in the world knows, I gave birth to Penelope on April 29. To be fair, I wasn't in stellar shape before I had her. I just wasn't. I wasn't morbidly obese or anything, but I was overweight for my height and I knew that I could, and should, be doing better. But like most people, I don't enjoy exercise, I love chemically processed foods, and I enjoy eating those chemically processed foods.

Throughout my entire pregnancy I gained the normal amount of weight. I watched what I ate and the portions of what I ate. I went on walks fairly regularly and I was really active through my whole pregnancy, even more so towards the end, really. When I gave birth to Penelope, I weighed 193 pounds. Keep in mind, I am only 5'3 (and a quarter, because every little bit helps) so that's a lot of weight on my stature.

Two days before I gave birth to Penelope

Even through my pregnancy I was following Instagram posts that tell you to "take back postpartum" and "be proud" of your post baby body. Those stretch marks are like war wounds! You created a human life, you shouldn't be ashamed of the vessel that made them! 

And yeah, that's all true. It is. It's not to say that I'm not proud of my body. Every day I stare at all three of my kids and am blown away when I think of the fact that I made them. With my own body. Even as Penelope was gently put into my arms, I was amazed to look at her and know that every part of her grew in me. All of her organs, her vital life systems, those were all on me. I did that. It's easily the biggest job a person can have. Just the miracle of life and the science on how a human is conceived, nurtured, and born is amazing. I can't downplay that at all because it's all a fascinating process and until you are right there in that moment I don't think you can really understand it. To know that you created a life. Maybe one of my kids will be famous or do something great in the world and I made them. 

So it's clear that I fully understand what a big deal being pregnant, and giving birth, is. I get it. I'm proud, and I would do it again and again because it was that great. I enjoyed it that much. 

But now I'm only carrying myself around. And I don't care what anyone says, we can fake it to the world, we can declare how proud we are, but somewhere in every mother, there is that little voice that will remind you that you weren't quite as flappy before kids. That voice reminds you that, once upon a time, you were quite the looker. You were a little thinner. A little firmer. You didn't quite feel like everything was all going to hell. 

Maybe it's aging. Maybe this isn't related to having a baby at all, maybe this is the war we fight with aging. Not wanting to let go of what once was, accepting what it is now, and being slightly terrified of what's ahead. 

Whatever it is, it's awful. 

Right now I am in an awful place and it's the worst. It's particularly bad because you do have kind people who'll say, "Wow- you look SO great!" and in my head I'm rolling my eyes and saying, "Um, no. Because you don't realize I'm still wearing my maternity jeans because it's holding all of the flappy skin and fat in, but thanks." You aren't really supposed to say that you feel like crap and hate your post-partum body because people automatically assume you don't love or want your kids ("I would KILL to be able to have a baby!") or maybe they aren't happy with how they look ("But Sara, you just had a baby. It takes 9 months to gain the weight..."). 

I love my kids, I want them all, and I know I just gave birth. I get all of that. 

I'm still feeling fat and I still hate it. Sorry. 

 Currently, I am still 5'3 (and a quarter). I am now 198 pounds.

Yes, you did your math correctly, I am five pounds heavier now than I was when I gave birth. Mathematically, Penelope was 9 pounds when she was born so I should be at least 9 pounds lighter. But NOPE, the world of mathematics and science clearly hates me because it's not working in my favor. And when you look at my pregnant picture and one from last night after my run, it's like, how in the WORLD are you heavier now?

I HAVE NO IDEA, FOLKS. Same scale, nothing has changed.

But here I am.

In the past I was an absolute emotional eater. I mostly ate out of boredom, and it is something I still struggle with. Mostly now my issue is lack of time. I am hardly eating, to be honest. I eat my fiber and protein granola bar in the morning during Penelope's nap, drink my bottle of water and glass of orange juice.

At lunch time, if I'm super lucky, I can eat a quick sandwich and either an apple or grapes, more water.

It's her afternoon nap that is the hardest, I really want to just eat ice cream or crap because I'm tired and bored, but that's when I'll read or do housework to curb that.

At dinner, I make a healthy meal and if I'm lucky, I get a little bit. If I'm not, I go to bed hungry. Sometimes if the day is particularly awful, I will go for my walk/run just so I don't cry from the tiredness and stress.

And yet here I am, gaining effing weight. It's the worst.

I have always had periods where I just hated how I looked and how I felt. It's not like I was ever skinny. I was never that girl in a bikini. I was always that girl with the kangaroo pouch (as Jackson calls it). This isn't a new feeling. But this time it feels especially awful. I had worked for years to get to a size 12 and here I am, wearing my maternity clothes because the though of putting on size 16 or higher again is more than I can handle. I feel like I'm starting all over. You'd think it would be empowering, after all- I know I can do it. I know it's possible. It's just having to do it all again. Knowing how many times I cried because everything on my body hurt.

Also knowing that no matter how much weight I lose, the flaps are still there. My kangaroo pouch is still there. It doesn't go away. Short of cosmetic surgery, I will always look three months pregnant.

So I have to do better. I'm back on my Couch to 5K running routine. I'm signed up for at least one 5K, and I'm signing up for the Minnesota Mile because it's an easy one mile run. I'm going to sign up for some other fall runs I like to do. I'll start my 30 Day Shred again for days I don't run.

In other words, I'm back at it.

I hate it.

I'm depressed and trying not to be.

And I curse genetics. Damn you, genetics.

The Girl Who Ignored Ghosts

If you missed my post yesterday, I had author K.C. Tansley on the blog talking about why she wrote a YA book. Definitely check that out! Today I'm reviewing that YA book:

The Girl Who Ignored Ghosts (Book 1: The Unbelieveables) - K.C. Tansley

Kat Preston doesn’t believe in ghosts. Not because she’s never seen one, but because she saw one too many. Refusing to believe is the only way to protect herself from the ghost that tried to steal her life. Kat’s disbelief keeps her safe until her junior year at McTernan Academy, when a research project for an eccentric teacher takes her to a tiny, private island off the coast of Connecticut.

The site of a grisly mystery, the Isle of Acacia is no place for a girl who ignores ghosts, but the ghosts leave Kat little choice. Accompanied by her research partner, Evan Kingsley, she investigates the disappearance of Cassie Mallory and Sebastian Radcliffe on their wedding night in 1886. Evan’s scientific approach to everything leaves Kat on her own to confront a host of unbelievables: ancestral curses, powerful spells, and her strange connection to the ghosts that haunt Castle Creighton.

But that’s all before Kat’s yanked through a magic portal and Evan follows her. When the two of them awaken 129 years in the past with their souls trapped inside the bodies of two wedding guests, everything changes. Together, Kat and Evan race to stop the wedding-night murders and find a way back to their own time—and their own bodies—before their souls slip away forever. 

I absolutely loved this book. Honestly, I'm kind of excited for Olivia to get a little bit older and read it because this is totally up her alley. We have Kat, who is highly intelligent but she also sees ghosts. It's not just seeing the ghosts, it's the fact that they are trying to possess her by stealing moments in time. Over the years Kat has developed ways to keep them at bay, but with her new project involving Castle Creighton and the double murder of a bride and her groom on their wedding night is putting her in great danger. She also can't say no because a successful completion of this project makes her a definitely shoo-in for Georgetown, where she so desperately studies. 

So after arriving at Castle Creighton, things are amiss and as she delves deeper into the mystery of the Radcliffe Curse, all of the protections she has relied on become useless. She finds herself on the other side of a mirror and getting first hand experience of the events that led up to the double murder. It's up to Kat and the rest of the team to figure out what happened to the bride and groom in the past, and how to help Joshua (the last first born Radcliffe male, who will die at age 23 unless they figure out how to lift the curse).

While the book obviously gives us some closure, it definitely leaves the door open for more books because we're left with some unanswered questions and some new players. Overall? I totally enjoyed it. It's only 243 pages, so not long at all, and it's fast paced. It doesn't take long into the book for things to happen and Kat is an endearing character. You almost feel bad for her because man, the lengths she goes to so she can be "normal" are kind of extraordinary. I also had zero idea who was behind the curse and I liked that- this book kept me on my toes! 

Although I enjoyed it as an adult, I actually like YA books in general. This would be a fun read for even middle school kids. Heck, I was reading R.L. Stine Fear Street books in middle school and those were far more disturbing as a middle-schooler! The Girl Who Ignored Ghosts is available at Barnes & Noble as well as Amazon. 

Happy reading! 

Try It Sunday: Lemon Bars

I'm the first one to tell you I love to bake, but I kind of suck at it. I shouldn't say that. There are some things I can make and make well. Other things... not so much. Don't ever ask me to make a bundt cake because it'll come to you still in the pan. It's just the truth.

That means I basically stick to super easy baking recipes you cannot screw up. Once upon a time I was in Barnes & Noble looking through the bargain and clearance books and I found this cookbook.

It's not very big, but it's amazing. It's seriously the most used and best cookbook I own. If you can't bake without starting a fire, you need this book in your life.

Also, we'll be cooking with Edward today.

So one of my favorite things ever are lemon bars. Unfortunately, lemon bars from scratch are a pain in the ass and I don't think they ever really taste lemon enough. But these bars? DELISH. And lemony.

You need: one box of lemon cake mix, 2 eggs, and a 1/3 cup of oil. That's it. 

Go preheat your oven to 350 while you mix. 

Dump it all into a bowl and mix. It's super thick, so just make sure you mix it well. 

It is super thick. 

Now, it says this will fit a 9x13 pan that you've greased. It does not. Well, I've never gotten it to spread into a 9x13, so go for an 8x8 pan. Unless you really like lemon bars, then you'll do a double batch of this and get it into a 9x13. 

Like me. 

Bake this baby for about 20 minutes if you do a double batch. Otherwise it's 13-15 minutes. Basically you want it to be golden brown on the top. 

Like this. 

It does rise (it IS a cake mix, after all), so mine basically looks like a weird sheet cake. But who cares because it's delicious. 

I cannot emphasize this enough! 

Now, if you aren't a total loser and actually have powder sugar, sprinkle that on top. If you are like me, you ran out and assumed you had some because you usually do but it turns out you don't, so you don't get powder sugar on your yummy bars. 

But this is a GREAT recipe to bring if you are going to a potluck. I'll bring this with a little container of raspberries and blueberries to have on the side. Yummy. 

The Fifth Letter

I know it's a Saturday, but I still have a review ready to go for you. You lucky lamb, you.

The Fifth Letter - Vivian Carpenter

Sometimes you’re damned if you do and damned if you don't. Such is the position in which U.S. Justice Katherine Ross, the first black female on the U.S. Supreme Court, finds herself in "The Fifth Letter," the new legal thriller by author Vivian Carpenter. 

Rooted in the historical treatment of Blacks in the United States, Justice Katherine Ross, the first Black female on the U.S. Supreme Court, struggles to do what is right as her mother’s 1940s memoir influences her actions and emotions. 

Once on the Court, Katherine gains the power to ignite an involuntary retirement process to remove conservative Justice John Galt from the bench after the U.S. Constitution is amended to create an involuntary retirement process of incapacitated justices. 

John Galt, an outspoken egoist, survives an assassination attempt but is severely injured. He appears incapacitated. Pressures for Galt’s removal from the bench mount with his prolonged absence from the Court. However, John Galt will not resign is seat. Katherine must decide whether or not to issue the fifth letter for Galt’s retirement. 

While weaving through Katherine’s personal challenges, "The Fifth Letter" turns a spotlight on the most important issue currently facing the Court today: who is a person with inalienable legal rights in America? And it asks this question of its main character: What happens when a liberal Black female justice of the Supreme Court is caught between her conscience and the call of political expedience? 

I have to start by saying this book is quite the reading, coming in at just over 400 pages. It can't be said that this is a fun, weekend read- this is heavy (literally), and there is a lot crammed into this book. With that said, I enjoyed it. 

The story is about Katherine Ross, who is the first black U.S. Supreme Court justice, and her mother. It has loads of black history (which alone is absolutely fascinating), it's well researched in regards to law and Constitutional procedures. Let me also just add in here that while it is well researched, and there is legalese in the book, it's not too much. You never feel lost and you actually learn a little something along they way. Specifically what "The Fifth Letter" is, which is where you invoke involuntary retirement for a Supreme Court justice who is deemed incompetent. 

The other thing I liked about this book is that it kind of feels like an episode of House of Cards, where Katherine learns that while she takes her job seriously, there are others who try to use her to further their own agendas. Everyone is scheming, everyone has an agenda, and not everyone cares as much about the law or the Constitution as Katherine does. The story weaves between Katherine and her mother, and her mother's story acts as a moral guide for her at times. The only complaint I have is that the story itself is a bit unbelievable, but then I think maybe it should be. It IS a work of fiction, after all! And can we talk about what an ambitious, yet well written, first book this was for the author? Color me impressed! 

If you are a fan of political thrillers, this is going to be a book you'll enjoy. Lucky for you, this book is available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble.