Quick! Fast! For all you procrastinators out there, Melissa who Really Can’t Get Enough of Herself is giving away a custom designed photo Christmas card. Winner chosen on Monday, so you’d better get your name in pronto. She’s kind of amazingly talented and hilarious all at the same time, check it out.

Okay, this next one is really cool.

Veronica, the World’s Most Amazing Camera Wielder, is giving away something wonderful on her blog. It’s not the typical type-your-name-and-win-something gig, this one is for somebody special. Maybe you know who that somebody is.

Check out her give-a-way right here.

Ciao!

Lets talk about Tiger Woods for a moment, shall we?

Seriously, is there anything cooler than a guy drooling over his own bicept?

In case you missed it, on Black Friday Tiger Woods was in a traffic accident fifteen feet (or so) from his front door. Not only did he hit a local tree and a fire hydrant, but he also hit his head. Luckily, his wife was on hand with a golf club to smash in the back window of his Cadillac SUV. The report states that she was trying to rescue him from the car.

By smashing in his rear window. With one of his golf clubs.

Funny, but just two days prior to this report, the ever dependable tabloids informed the world that Tiger was having an affair. And according to today’s gossip, just three days prior to the accident, Tiger broke up with his long-time top secret girlfriend (she has 300 text messages to prove it).

Let’s back up just a second. I’ve pulled out of my driveway a lot of times, I’d have to be pretty darn distracted to smash into something I see on a regular basis (with three small children, I have a master’s degree in driving distractions). It would take something really shocking to make me completely ignore the road in front of me. Something like, oh, being chased by an angry woman sporting a golf club.

If I was a police officer (man, I’d be a good cop), I’d ask Tiger why he was driving down the road staring in his rear view mirror the entire time. I’d also ask for the name and phone number of his girlfriend, just to be thorough. (I would not be responsible for accidentally leaking that information to his wife.)

Do you think it’s a coincidence that she used the very thing that supplies their livelihood in her attempt to beat the crap out of her husband? Hey, for a white girl she didn’t do too bad.

when will men learn not to mess with a woman who's given birth?

Frankly, Tiger is just lucky the cops arrived before she had time to run him over with the golf cart after she saved him from the crash.

My mother called to inform me that she’s ready for “something funny” again. My colum has had two rather serious weeks, that’s scary stuff.

I’ll admit, I kind of freaked out at her. I threw out a lot of phrases like, “the kind of pressure” and “any idea” and “you’re supposed to love me.” The thing is, she’s right. I’ve had a case of the maroons. They’re similar to the blues, but they’re not sad, just thoughtful.

Of course, that’s no excuse. All seven successful humor columnists in the world agree on one thing: Being funny is serious business. You have to work at it.

The thing is, so far I haven’t really had to do a whole lot of crafting to come up with material. I find that going to the grocery store with all three kids during the three o’clock hungry hour is usually enough stimulation to get the juices flowing.

If I’m looking for funny material, I could always walk into a business lunch with the people from my husband’s office with  my zipper down again, now that was really funny last week. Nothing like tight jeans and an open zipper.

Hey, I could ask that woman in front of all her friends when her baby is due again, her six-month-old loved that. You should have seen the smile on her kid’s face.

Or I could spend an evening cleaning up five gallons of vomit out of the truck like I did last night. Hilarious! There’s nothing like partially digested cheeseburgers to lighten the mood.

(Actually, my husband couldn’t stop laughing about it. Our only warning from Rex? “My throat! My throat! Bleaugh!” So funny, I love vomit. We don’t get nearly enough of that stuff around here.)

A few weeks ago I opened my email and saw that One Million Mom’s is asking mother’s everywhere to boycott Old Navy, Gap and Banana Republic this Christmas season. Why? Because once again, Gap, Inc. is refusing to use the word Christmas in their holiday campaigning.

In their own words, Gap, Inc. says, “Gap recognizes that many traditions are celebrated throughout this season and we feel it is important to display holiday signage that is inclusive to everyone.”

On one hand, I like the idea that they want to include everyone. There are plenty of shoppers out there who put up a tree, swap items and still don’t believe in Jesus. Then there’s Hanuka and Kwanzaa to consider, both well represented holidays in the United States. There’s no doubt they have plenty of consumers to please.

But I don’t understand who they think is going to be offended by the word “Christmas”. It’s one of the biggest holiday selling seasons of the year, thanks to Christians, and it’s celebrated by a huge chunk of our population. That doesn’t mean businesses who promote Christmas shopping have to believe in Jesus, just that they recognize the  millions of their consumers who do.

Refraining from using the word “Christmas” during the holiday season is kind of like saying we don’t want to offend non-Americans by posting the word “Independence” in association with July 4th. Heaven forbid the British get wind of that Old Navy campaign (and it is a big summer campaign), who knows what kind of havoc their hurt feelings could wreak on the economy.

I have never seen a “Happy Hanuka!” sign and found it offensive. If anything, I’m glad the Jewish kids out there have a holiday of their own to celebrate so they don’t feel left out of the gift giving season.

Besides, like everyone else, Gap, Inc. makes a killing off of Christians every year. The least they could do is acknowledge it. They don’t even have to wish people a “Merry Christmas”, instead why not post something like, “Hey! Buy your Christmas presents here!” That’s simply calling a spade a spade without wishing anyone anything.

It’s fairly obvious that Gap, Inc. headquarters are the ones who are really offended here. Plenty of stores post “Merry Christmas” signs and it doesn’t hurt their numbers. When I got the email, the answer seemed obvious: post a big fat sign that represents every holiday.

Fast forward two weeks.

I saw a Gap singing/dancing ad on television a few nights ago, and what do you think they did? They got smart and mentioned everyone in their ad–but is it any surprise that they only mention Christmas once, but the other holidays all twice? I rewound the commercial just to be sure. Talk about sore losers.

I’ll probably wait until December 26th to shop there anyway. (That’s when I’ll take them at the clearance racks for everything they’re worth.)

Tonight, while listening to Delilah, I heard a mother call in and express gratitude for laundry and snotty noses. It touched my heart. I, too, am thankful this year for all things Mommy. The jelly smears on my thighs and shoulders, the endless supply of food that miraculously appears under the kitchen bar, the welcoming drops I routinely find on the seat of the toilet that remind me how lucky I am to have two children that are potty trained–I wouldn’t trade one second of it.

Sometimes, as a mom, I whine and complain about the menial tasks that fill my day and regularly hinder me from accomplishing anything great. But I know that someday I’m going to look back on these little bricks that make up motherhood, and be grateful for the tower of strength my family has to lean on. I’m building that tower, one brick at a time. (Well, me and my benefactor, since Jason pays for the bricks.)

This week’s article is very near and dear to my heart. Sometimes a mother’s trials so far surpass anything I could possibly imagine, they seem unbearable. Click on my face to read about little Tegan, and if you’ve been blessed with healthy children, or any children for that matter, today is a good day to thank the Lord for them.

Before I started my craft room, all I had was a big dumpy mess downstairs of mismatched, unattractive furniture. We had a huge oversized desk, filing cabinets, a broken armoire–the space was crammed with big pointless furniture. I forgot to take a BEFORE picture of the room, but here’s what my dining room has looked like for the past two months.

Do you have any idea how annoying dinner time is? We have to clean it off every single night, I’ve been going insane. So here’s the after:

I got the computer desk on KSL for $30 bucks and love it. I wanted something small that we couldn’t pile crap on. And notice what isn’t in this picture?

That’s right, I’ve moved The Ugly Piece to an empty wall in the toy room. In order to make it look important, I hung up all the BYU stuff I could find. He was totally thrilled, and I got my wall back.

The window treatments were easy to make, here’s a close up.

As for the sewing station, I found this desk at the D.I. for $20 bucks, sawed it in half, painted it green and had Jason secure it to the wall. I’m crazy for it.

Here’s another look at the cheap Ikea shelves (which I put up all by my little old self). I also made-over a cheap bulletin board from Walmart with some paint and fabric, and voila! Totally cute. I got the idea from a design blog.

And here’s the before and after of the little dresser shelf thing I filched from my MIL’s garage.

Let the crafting commence.

About New Moon.

First off, I loved it. Howled a little when Jacob’s shirt came off the first time, begged for more and wasn’t disappointed (are you throwing up just a little yet?). The movie was better than I expected it to be, and I plan to fork over the dough and see it again on the big screen.

But I must admit, I dropped by Burger King this week and as I made my way inside, I came face to face with a life-size window sticker of everybody’s favorite little native, Jacob. I stopped. I stared. I cringed.

Holy crap I have a crush on a child.

Seriously, he’s a child, people. I’m an old married woman who drags small children through parking lots and wonders where my breasts have gone, and here I am, drooling after someone I probably wouldn’t trust to babysit for me.

But on the other hand, he’s so hot, and I was young once, wasn’t I? Is it a sin to casually drool over an eight-pack laden werewolf, and kind of wish he’d jump through my window? Hey, I wish I could get anyone to jump through my window. In the middle of the night when the babies throw up, I think my husband would be happy to jump out of my window. What’s a girl got to do to get some window action?

If you’re going to suggest crushing after a vampire with ten chest hairs, forget it. Seriously, it was just mean of them to show Edward shirtless after an entire hour of seeing Jacob’s beautiful body. (Shoot, I’m doing it again, aren’t I?) I have two words for you, Edward, Wax and Tan. Nobody wants to see that, and those pasty hip bones? I shudder to think.

If you haven’t seen it, give it a whirl. I wasn’t disappointed.

I now have a craft room. (I will post pictures tomorrow, girl’s camp honor.)

With a craft room comes great crafty responsibility. I can no longer piddle away the day on non-important things like laundry and blogging, I’m now accountable to make this space produce something more substantial than the random pair of hemmed pants.

So I’m making a ton of my kid’s Christmas gifts this year. I would lay out my To-Sew list for you, but that means I’d have to follow through with everything, so instead I’ll just show you each little bit as it comes to life.

I started with the stick horses. When I decided to make Junie a stick horse, I wanted it to be uber cutestie and totally feminine, without being pink or purple. After two hours of cutting and pinning and glueing and flossing, I’d like to introduce you to Sparkles, the sweetest little pony you’ve ever met in your entire life.

Seriously, I’m totally in love with her, but there’s a problem. Sparkles is covered in little silver sequins. Junie found a scrap of Sparkles’ fabric and what do you think she did with it? She immediately chewed off all the sparkles. (I know, seriously? Who is this child? In case you need a visual of typical Junie behavior, here’s one from yesterday. Gotta love how her eyes are actually rolled back in her head with total gluttonous gratification.)

It was a sign–she will kill this pony. All the things that make Sparkles dainty and girly and cute would be wasted on my wild little cowgirl.

So the other day while I was at the fabric store picking up some odds and ends, I walked past this bolt of fabric and it practically attacked me. I couldn’t walk away, succombed to half a yard, and went home wondering why I’d blown $4 on something without a place.

But after Sparkles was off the floor, I pulled that fabric down and the minute it was in my hands, I knew. This was meant to be June’s pony. Sparkles? She’s got my niece Meara’s name written all over her, but June needs a horse of a different color.

And so, with no further adeau, I am pleased to present to you Naughty Nellie, my all-time favorite creation next to my own darling children. She’s stickless at the moment, but I couldn’t wait to get her out there for the whole world to see. She’s wild and naughty and looks like hours of cowgirl fun. Personally, I would like to have a crack at her, just to see if she’s as delightful as she looks.

I don’t even want to think of the trouble those two are going to get into.

(PS – If you’re looking for a stick pony or stick horse pattern, good luck. I spent an entire day searching for one and in the end made my own. None of the pattern books carry them anymore. Stupid overpriced patterns, who needs them.)

I am dying for a good book to read that’s not too thinky but not too flakey. I’m not really in the mood for something sad, but I understand that sometimes a little grief makes good literature. Also vampires make good literature.

Speaking of vampires, did you see It yet? I’m going tonight at 5:00 with a few other emotionally stunted mothers. Actually, I’m going with the girlfriend who told me I had to read this book about vampires. She’s not only one of my nearest and dearest, but I owe her my entire collection of good literature for making that brilliant suggestion.  How does one repay such a debt? I’m giving her a T-shirt.

And personally, as a writer, I’m proud to stand up for Stephanie Meyer and give her due credit. The girl threw down something brilliant, her success is no accident. I swear, her uber clean yet slightly bloody romances did more for my own personal romantic inclinations than anything I’ve read in a long time. I swear I pictured Jason with hair for an entire week after reading book two. (WHY DIDN’T SHE PICK JACOB?)

Besides, the chances are slim that any of the infatuated teenagers will be able to find a vampire or a werewolf to date, so I can live with freaky Bella and her unhealthy relationships. (I will concede the point that Bella is way better as a vampire. She’s such an irritating human.)

BTW, if you live in Utah, my Stupid Twilight T-shirts are for sale at the Ogden Quilted Bear for under $20. Just saying.

Have you ever noticed how Christmas offers all kinds of child appropriate activities, like count down calendars? There are a  million ways to build up to the Big Finish, and parents everywhere do their part.

But what about Thanksgiving? Check out this week’s column to see what my family is doing in preparation for Turkey Day. We’ve got less than a week, if you haven’t started anything there’s still time to get cooking. (Or brining.)

WHEN IN THE HECK ARE YOU GOING TO GET DOWN HERE ALREADY?

Actually, that last line is rather deceiving. It leaves the impression that there is room in my life right now for another child. I assure you, there is not. No, not, nada, I am loaded to the rear bumper with the three I have.

In fact, I keep wishing my daughter would just start her period already. Since she’s only 23 months, it looks like I might as well throw back a bourbon and and settle in for the ride. (It’s really a shame that I don’t drink. She’s made me reconsider a lot of things about my life lately, like why I even buy toilet paper, or keep pin cushions around.)

And speaking of PMS, what’s that all about? I had no idea that I was PMS Prone, but let me tell you, the past few months I’m like a walking rubber band. You know, all loosey goosey and easy going, pliable and stretchy like, then SNAP! All I want to do is inflict pain on those around me for an entire week.

(WARNING: If you are about to suggest any kind of medication or other nonsensical treatment for this syndrome, I highly recommend you keep the comment to yourself. I’m not personally in control of my reply button at the moment, She is.)

Plus, while watching the June Bug torment her baby cousin the other day, the Spirit witnessed to me that the reason I don’t have a fourth child yet is really quite clear. She would kill it.

And so, I leave you with this fertility update: no baby news is good news. And while my eggs are aging faster than a good cheddar, timing really is everything. Besides, I’m only having one more before getting the plumbing double knotted, so I’m not really in that much of a hurry.

(But for future reference, I’m sooo done with all of Jason’s out-of-town business trips. They’re proving to be extremly inconvenient.)