8 weeks left to the big day

Help. I need to get out of this grumpy mood I find myself in. I feel overwhelmed and stressed out.

8 weeks left to the big day.

I'm not exaggerating although some of you will think I am. There is a lot left to do. I always thought that if I did find myself in this predicament that my mom would step in, take over and have the entire day planned out in a matter of weeks. All I would have to do is be ready with the blank checks. Not so. In fact, she's been pretty hands off. Not because she doesn't care, but because she knows that I'm stubborn. Pigheaded enough to stay out of the way. Secret is, all I want is my mommy to step in and save the day.

8 weeks left to the big day.

Take yesterday. I've been trying to figure out what to do about the centerpieces for weeks. I thought- I have a brilliant idea! 4 trips to Michael's, 1 to Jo-Ann Fabrics and 1 to Crafters Warehouse later I walked away feeling pretty excited. Add a stop at Sam's Club and a quick visit to IKEA and you could have stuck a fork in me. I was done! But no, I still had to go pick up my mom from work only to find that she bought a rug- which didn't fit into my car because of all the other stops along the way. Finally got home and starting to unpack my loot only to find that the 10lbs bag of sugar I bought had burst open. I now have -and will probably have for a very long time- 5lbs of sugar in my trunk. I'm not exaggerating here folks. FIVE POUNDS! I hate Sam's Club. It isn't like it's SO much cheaper than the grocery store. They can afford to give us fucking paper bags to put our shit in! I was in a foul mood to say the least.

8 weeks left to the big day.

4 Michaels, 1 Jo-Ann Fabrics and 1 Crafters Warehouse later reality struck. I have no fucking idea how to make a wreath. My brilliant idea has dwindled down to a pile of yuck. I'm left with nothing more than a glitter explosion on my bedroom floor.

8 weeks left to the big day.

The boy says not to worry, that I'm trying to hard. No one will look at the centerpieces anyway. What does he know? He's a boy. They better fucking look at the centerpieces after all this!

8 weeks left to the big day.

M&M are coming over tonight. That will be a help. We're going to make all the favor boxes. All 200 of them, if it means that I'm going to strap them to a chair until they're done! The boxes at least will look cute. They only needed 3 previous trips to Michaels- oh yeah, and one to a paper warehouse place.

8 weeks left to the big day.

There you go. Anal, stressed, disappointment all wrapped up in a glitterized bow.

Thank God Almighty

It fits! The white poofy marshmallow dress fits! It looks pretty darn hot on too if do say so myself!

Thank ya Jesus!

Burnt Grilled Cheese Part 2

The poor boy is sick again. I hate to admit it, but I think I'm at fault.
See. I work in a cesspool of ick. Everyone here is sick. In fact, K, actually broke a rib from caughing to hard.

Anyhoo, I think I'm going to tackle this Tomato Soup & Grilled Cheese thing again. I have high hopes this time. First, I'm going to make it with milk on the stove top. Seems that I missed the inter-office memo that told me that you never ever make it by following the can's directions: water, bowl, microwave. As far as the grilled cheese. I have the Pam and low heat setting ready to go.

I'll keep you all posted.