Grillz

I got some new teeth this week.
Kinda odd the whole process of it all.
The picture you see above is what the dentist grinded my teeth down to in order to make room for veneers.
Please don't judge and think I got veneers because I'm vain and because it's cool and Hollywood like. The truth is I have always had terrible teeth that 2 dentists have spent years bonding and capping and fixing and finally there was just nothing left to do but replace them.
So replace them I did.
It's very odd I must say. I longer have a space between my teeth at all. Anyone that has known me knows that from childhood up until after Evan and I got married, I had a huge space between my two front teeth. And then I had it filled in to a small space as an adult. But now there is no space. Kinda miss it, but mostly love my new smile.
They are pretty darn white which is kinda scary. You'll see below that they almost glow! But I'm getting used to that too. And to think I got the darkest shade they had!


And another little change I made recently was that I cleaned my closet out completely.
I no longer have clothes in there that don't fit. They all went to Goodwill.
And my closet is pretty bare since I am having a hard time spending the money it will take to completely revamp my wardrobe. So yes, you will see me in a lot of the same outfits over and over again until I can build my stash back up.
But I'm not complaining, I'm thankful to have my new healthy self to dress.
So that is it for now- New teeth and not many clothes!
And I thought age 33 would be boring!

Ta Da!

Here's the dress picture.

I'm not wild about it and I don't think it does true justice to pride I feel for being able to wear this dress.

But it was taken with an iphone and it was late at night and it was after a long work day.

But still- here I am in a size 6 dress from 1997.

And that is good enough for me!

Time to Check in

I've been away from this here blog for a while now.
No excuses really except that life is happening and it's moving quickly.
But I did want to update myself and the blog world on one small little awesome nugget of goodness.
I WEIGH THE EXACT SAME THING I WEIGHED 4 MONTHS AGO!
I know, I know. Probably not that great to most people.
But a big deal to me.
I always figured that if I ever lost the weight, I would just gain it back.
But nope. I'm bigger than that (pun intended).
I am still my now comfortable size 6.
And the other night I put on an evening gown that I wore when Evan and I were dating. And it looked great I must say. So good that I secretly wish we had somewhere to go where I could wear it.
And I also wish I had taken a picture. But since I am too lazy to right now, here is a challenge for anyone who might still read one of my blog posts.
If you will leave me a comment asking to see the dress, I will make syslef post a picture.
But you have to want to see it! I need motivation. And I need to know I'm still loved in the blog world.

Time to Dine

Here it is- the new and improved Dining Room.

Minus any decor- we are working on that part.

But I wanted to show the completed molding work below the chair rail and the new paint color.

LOVE THE PAINT COLOR!!

It's basically a charcoal gray. Or "Seal" as the Martha Stewart line of paint at Home Depot calls it.

It's perfect. Nice and dark, but not black like the kitchen.

Next up, refinishing the chandalier, recovering the chairs and decorating the walls.

All with ideas found on Pinterest.

Battle Wounds

Seems I have a little issue with moles.

Not big ugly hairy ones (of which I have none).

It seems the kind that cause problems on me are the little ones.

The one's I pay no attention to.

So much to my surprise at my yearly dermatology visit, I had 3 little moles scraped off.

It sounds worse than it is. They actually numb the area and you don't feel a thing.

1 was taken off because I hated it. It was right at my neck line on my back and I was constantly scratching it with necklaces and things. It was just a nuisance.

The other two came off because the dr. thought they looked odd.

I thought they looked like someone put a dot on me with a Sharpie.

And again, they were tiny.

So I was even more surprised when I got a call a week later that both of the little ones came back on the mild end of precancerous.

And the sweet lady on the phone said to come in, they would dig the area out around them, stitch me up and sent me on my way.

Fair enough. An not a big deal since I have had 2 moles "dug out" in the past.

So off to my appointment I went.

And then came the options. What options? I didn't know I had options!

As it turns out, the woman on the phone didn't inform me that I could choose the cut open and suture route or I could go with the "scooping" method of removal.

Here's the part that got me frustrated.

I simply asked the doctor, "What would you do?", to which he replied that it was personal preference. If he cut me open, he would only do one at a time and I'd be back in two weeks for suture removal and to get the 2nd one removed. But I had to make the decision and he left the room.

If I got them scooped, I could get them both the same day, but have gunshot wound-like places that have to be monitored closely and kept packed full of ointment. Gross.

So I wanted the sutures. And the stinkin' nurse talked me into scooping so I could get them done both that day. I probably should have gone with my instinct.

And so the doctor comes back, scoops the moles and tells me to take good care of them.

To which I said, "SO which way would you have done it if it were you?"

To which he replied, "I would have gotten the sutures if it were my body. The other way is a pain to take care of!"

And then began my utter dislike for my dermatologist.

Argh. I knew I was right.

But now I have two gunshot wounds that Evan is responsible for tending to.

Oh well, I guess you live and learn.

A Project of Course

Several months ago, I was inspired by a project I read on a blog called Finding My Feet.

The lady who writes this blog is a true go-getter and tackles projects head on.

Plus, she painted part of her kitchen black which I love since I too have black walls in my kitchen! (PS- I would paint all kinds of walls black if Evan would let me.)

But anyway, back to the project.

Raechel from Finding My Feet put Picture Frame molding around the eating area in her kitchen and I just loved it. Plus, she made it look pretty easy. So with a little convincing (of Evan), we were off to Home Depot for molding.

Now let me start by saying that we made a few mistakes that you can learn from.

Here they are:

1. Get a nail gun! Rent one or borrow one. The whole process would be so much easier.

2. Don't go to Georgia Tech and then try this project. The angles and measurements are enough to drive out type crazy! But let me just say- our angles and cuts are pretty spot on.

3. And maybe drink a glass of wine or a beer before starting. Because this can get intense otherwise.

Here is some good moves we made:

1. A level. Have to have at all times and a laser level helps as well if you have one.
2. A good saw with an Engineer for a husband. We did not have a single mis-cut!

3. Patience. Rushing this project will cause flaws and it is just too pretty to not be perfect.

So here is the reveal. And we are not done. Only the bottom of one wall is complete as we have been super busy lately. But I have to say- I LOVE IT!

Thank you Raechel who I have never met or talked to or corresponded with for being the inspiration.

And thank you Evan for agreeing to let me lead you into another project that requires you putting up with my crazy ideas.

Learned this from a blog I can't find again, but using painter's tape helps you get all of the pieces into place before making them permanent. It also gives you a nice visual before you commit to nailing to molding to the wall for real.

This is the beginnings of the one wall that is finished.
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The longest wall in the dining room. Post nailing the molding to the wall.

Primer phase. We had some rather dark gold paint in there to cover up. Plus I think it is just a good idea to prime any wall.

And the finished product. Or at least the bottom half. I have no idea what color will end up on the top half of the wall. Orange, gray, blue. Who knows? And yes, black has been rejected.

Questions lead to bone chills

Our daughter Haley is now 11. That in itself scares me as I know pretty soon we will have a teenager on our hands. And I fear teenagers. Because I was the worst kind of teenager.
But I know she will be just fine. It's everyone else's kids around her that scare me.

So anyway, we were driving down the road talking about something when Haley asked us what a P.A. was. Well, it's a Physicians Assistant. Someone who has been trained like a doctor but is generally more available for illnesses like the common cold or sinus infections. And if you are more sick than just a little cold, they know to hand you off to a doctor.
That's what we told her.
And then I turned to Evan and said that one of the thoughts I have regularly is wondering what would be different if he had seen a P.A. on the day that his cancer was found "by accident".
Let me first say that I think P.A.s are more than capable of finding all kinds of illnesses. And I am a fan of P.A.s in general.
But in Evan's story, his cancer was discovered because a doctor had missed a diagnosis in his Residency and has been paranoid his entire career about people's necks. So the story took this man being in the right place at the right time for Evan's cancer to be found.
Do you believe in God yet?
Because God put that man there. That Doctor. Not the P.A. or other doctor that Evan normally would have seen. That doctor. The one that was paranoid about necks.

So back to the story where we are talking to Haley. After I blurted out to Evan about how that day could have gone differently if he had seen a different doctor or P.A., Haley heard us talking and said, "So that doctor saved your life?".
Que spine chills.
She truly understood what went on with her dad's health.
She too was a part of the story.
The then 9 and 10 year old girl that watched a Jesus story unfold in the form of cancer in her daddy's body.
And my desire for her is that she will learn the story so well that she will share it with those she encounters in her life. And she will tell them about that doctor but also the Great Physician that saved her dad.
I don't worry about her believing in Jesus anymore. She has seen Him work.
How cool is that?