wisdom teeth update

The swelling in my cheeks has gone down but

this morning I woke up to this:

 

Ok, let's be honest here,

does it make me look like I have a beard?

Or maybe it just makes me look tough?

Either way, tough or bearded, 

it's not a look I want to pull off.  

This is an Apple Nutrition Shelf Talker.

(designed by me)

Shelf Talkers sit on shelves and "talk" to customers. Customers like me, who have no idea what in the world Glucosamine is or why I should be taking it.

Well, that used to be me.

Until I got saddled with the job of writing 50 shelf talkers on vitamins and supplements I knew absolutely nothing about. Now? Well, I can rattle off the benefits of Coenzyme Q10 with the best of them. Be careful mentioning any aches, pains, or health discomforts around me. I've been excitedly waiting for opportunities to share my newfound knowledge, and I am ready to pounce. You'll walk away with an armful of vitamins before you know what hit you. (And be the better for it, seriously.)

Come to think of it, I'm the better for it. I feel like I've finally befriended the little pile of pills Timmy gives me every morning. "Hello there, Vitamin B, thank you for making my bones strong and healthy..."

How to Make Organza Flowers

 I am not good at being sick. I get frustrated by my inability to do things, 

 and watching movies all day is incredibly boring.  

By yesterday afternoon, I was desperate to accomplish something.  

Something creative.

So, with a handful of organza, a candle, and a lighter, 

I announced to Timmy that I was going upstairs to light some fabric on fire. 

'Why is that?' he asked. 

'To make some flowers.'

And when I triumphantly descended three hours later,
Timmy woke up from his nap to a wife with chubby cheeks
and a perfectly ruffled flower in her messy hair.

Ingredients:

candle, organza scraps, needle, thread, beads

  
Step One: Find your ingredients.

Step Two: Cut the organza into "petals". These don't have to be super perfect, just nice flowing, circular flowery shapes. I found that it's best to avoid points or sharp angles, and to keep the lines curvy and smooth. Depending on how full you want your flower, cut about 3-5 petals in varying sizes.

Step Three: Light your candle. Hold the organza over the flame, moving it quickly over the edges. Don't put it IN the flame, but about two inches above it. The organza will ripple and curl. Keep going until all your petals have been curled.

Step Four: Layer the petals and add lace, tulle, and other fabric amidst the layers.

Step Five: With your needle and thread, sew all the layers together. Sew beads into the center.

Step Six: Add to clips, bobby pins, and headbands. 

This may become an obsession.

Dear Timmy,

There is no one I'd rather be miserable with than you. Last night, when I had that allergic reaction to the oxycodone, and I was convinced I was going to stop breathing in my sleep, you promised me you'd stay awake and take care of me. And you did. I must have woken up a zillion times, itching all over, and whenever my eyes opened, they met yours.

I love it when you call me sweetheart, and I love being yours to take care of. You are my cutest chipmunk cheeked husband, and I wish I could repeat and repeat every moment spent with you. (Even the miserable ones.)


Love,
your Becki

 Wisdom I have Gained From Losing My Wisdom Teeth:

 There is only one thing worse than having your wisdom teeth removed.

Death.

 Never go to the dentist. Ever. 

Because then you would not even know wisdom teeth existed,

thus removing the need to extract them. 

chipmunk cheeks

 

(See how they cut my lip?)

Ouch.

We survived.

(In case you were worried.)

Timmy has been eating blended soup, bread, and butter.

Eew.

I am mostly just dying.

The End.

it might be true...

 It might be said that I am a little over concerned about having my wisdom teeth removed this morning. It is possible that I have written out my will, and
expressed funeral wishes to family members.

It might be noted that I am extremely against the idea of sitting in a dentist chair, getting an IV, being put to sleep, and having someone chisel my teeth out of my jawbone. It is possible that I have googled "wisdom teeth extraction" and "fatalities due to anesthesia", and convinced myself

that death is a real possibility.

It might be obvious that I have a very real and intense fear of medical procedures, or any procedure that causes pain. It is possible that Timmy and I decided to get our wisdom teeth removed on the same day, at the same time, because it's kind of romantic.
And we like doing things together, you know.

 
And it might be true that while I am gloomily preparing myself for days of pain and suffering, Timmy is excitedly planning a memorial day weekend road trip, "just in case we feel great!". It is possible that, while I am morosely writing up shopping lists full of non-chewable foods (popsicles, soup, smoothies)…
Timmy is laughing at me.

I think we somehow balance each other out.

they say its your half-birthday…

23 and one half years old.

How do you celebrate half-birthdays?

(We celebrate with Indian tents in the bedroom,
half-kisses, and peanut butter cupcakes.)

When I met Timmy, he lived with five guy roommates, and his house existed in a state of boyish disarray. Unidentifiable guy things were strewn across counters. Movies and music and textbooks stacked in piles amongst food and crumbs and empty carryout boxes. Dishes were questionable and bathrooms were interesting. The living room was consumed by one large blue leather sofa,
and the walls had never been painted.

I remember the first night I visited his house. I commented on the boring white walls, and Timmy listened. You see, he listened to me from the start - before he even realized he liked me. Five months later, God spoke and he knew that I was "the one". And so, he planned a "painting party" to paint his living room, kitchen and bedroom, because he remembered my distaste for his white walls.
And because, at that point he was 99% positive I would someday be living in his house,
he purposely encouraged me to pick out the paint colors.

At that point I was totally oblivious. And so, I picked out paint colors that I thought a boy would like. Blue for the living room and green for the kitchen. Red for his bedroom.

Five days after I picked out the paint, we began courting.
One year later, we were married, and I moved in.

Any plans to paint his bedroom the previously chosen color had dissipated after I told Timmy that red gives me nightmares. And that poor can of red bedroom paint was never ever used.

Eleven months later, the red paint is still sitting in the basement. And, after subconsciously reading the permanent marker writings scrawled above our bed for the 100,000,000th time, I finally decided that eleven months was too long for a girl to live in such a place. It was time to paint our bedroom. And so we did. Not red, and not pink, but deep brown and a shifty shade
that can't quite decide between blue or green.

We didn't have time for it, and we should have been doing other things. But suddenly
painting our bedroom before our one year anniversary became incredibly important to me.
And Tim couldn't resist my pleadings.
So Saturday found us covered in paint and standing on sticky plastic drop cloths. 

And, you know, it never gets old. Looking at each other and exclaiming
"We're painting OUR bedroom! Can you believe it?
We're married."

 Eleven months in, and I still can't believe it.

Before:

 After:

 

There's lots more to do before our room is finished,
but I'm sure you will agree, this is a definite improvement! 

a conversation: about the color brown

Me: I think we should paint the bathroom brown and cream.
Brown would really enhance the teal in our towels.

Timmy: Umm. Does brown enhance anything?
It's the color of poop.

Me: ... My eyes are brown. And my hair. 

Timmy: I love the color brown!

 (Guess what we did this weekend...?)

(eleven.)

If there aren't words to describe this, let's not try. 

Let us just embrace this nameless feeling, 

this thought that transcends love  

and has become something infinitely sweeter.  

It is unattainable. No one else has ever felt exactly in this way – it is of our own making.  

Your heart and mine, creating a story that can never be written, only felt.

How long has it been since you became mine? Since we spoke our vows into the expanse of eternity, grabbed hands and jumped into this unknown, unending euphoria? Since you and I began.

How long has it been? 

Forever and eleven months.

(eleven months. picnic in the cemetery – is that creepy?)

("memories" were floating in the air. timmy caught me some.)

sometimes I do

little things

like

eat chocolate chip cookies

with melty chocolate chunks

for breakfast

or

use raspberry shampoo

that smells like

summer soaked heaven

or

cover my cube at work

with lovey letters

from my timmy.

or

hang ribbons from the ceiling fan

just because it

looks like magic

or

wear pretty dresses

with patterns that make

my eyes dance.

because sometimes

I just need

to make

smiles

happen.

(new card inspired by this dress and the many smiles I experienced today)

you may have heard of our neighbor...?

i think we're alone now.

Photoshop turns my
"if only those people weren't in the background of my black sand beach in Maui picture"
thoughts into a reality.

Tricky, huh?

Me: Babe, do you realize that I have two jobs?

Timmy: Well, if you count your "real job", happilyBecki,
and your Apple Nutrition design work,

you actually have three.

Me: Yes. Three jobs and a life.

I'm busy.

...and so, I give you cute cute kittens:

a screenshot of my current project (one of many...):

and, for your entertainment, a movie starring Timmy:

(sometimes, while at my "real job", I get little lovey video texts like this.)

Timmy: When I see a rock, I must conquer it. 

It is the enemy, and I will defeat it.

When I say to Timmy, "jump for the picture!" 

... this is what I get:

When Timmy says to me, "do a jump for the picture, babe!"

 ... this is what he gets:

He is a better jumper. I am a better picture taker.

Conclusion: We make a great team.

to hug a kangaroo.

While we were in Australia, I just really, especially,

very much wanted to...

pet a koala bear...

catch a glimpse of the world's deadliest snake... 

see a huge crocodile...

observe a poisonous spider - without getting bitten... (eek! I was hoping to see it outside, not our hotel room...)

say hello to a dingo... (did you know they can't bark?) 

hear a kookaburra laugh...

AND

to hug a kangaroo.