Category: Family Life

Herring family adventures, Jeep life, organic living. Karie Herring, Jeep aficionado, organic advocate and chef, details life as a reformed corporate woman, wife and motherhood to her twins and tween.

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Your Newest Mormon

Yes, that hot vixen….
Should be Mormon!
And for those who are Mormon, I would convert to LDS to be proper.
Here are my reasons to be Mormon:
  • All my friends are LDS (at least a good portion)
  • LDS have THE BEST support and networking
  • They never cuss (this would be good redemption for my sailor mouth)
  • I have enough kids to work my way into the lower echelon
  • I drive a B M W (Big Mormon Wagon) aka The Minivan
  • I buy in bulk already
  • I believe Jesus was a carpenter (LOL!)
  • I do not celebrate Easter the way Catholics and some Christians celebrate…just the bunny (ha ha!!)
  • I live in Mesa, AZ aka the Little Provo of Arizona
  • I have lived in more Mormon towns than not (Mesa, Chandler, Show Low, Snowflake, St Johns WREAK of LDS  lol!!)
  • I have a standing order from a LDS friend for 50% tithing and 50% Sundays, that’s a killer deal!
  • I am within walking distance to a local church, seriously, like I can see the steeple from my kitchen window!
  • They won’t have to baptize me again when I am dead
  • I like this line of clothes and am holding a Shade Clothing giveaway (My friend Carissa told me I don’t get any more Mormon than that!)
  • Finally….I have the MOTHER of all reasons to convert to LDS
I HAVE THE MOTHER OF ALL PANTRIES!!!
YES!!
My walk in. Fully stocked. Loaded to the Hilt
PANTRY!
Those shelves are 24″ or more deep…with FOOD!
Now I should show you my Mormon garage with water, another fridge, and all my extra canned/dry goods!
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Richard Scarry BusyTown Mysteries

I recently had the opportunity from One2OneNetwork to review the Richard Scarry series of BusyTown Mysteries on CBS Saturday Mornings (schedule and local air times in your area HERE). To be quite honest I had never heard of Richard Scarry, let alone BusyTown Mysteries but if CBS felt the series of childhood books worthy to air for children then I knew I had to take a gander.

Plus what can I say, Michelle @ One2One rocks and she wondered why I wasn’t in on the campaign…and I cannot let them down right? I mean they have the coolest reviews that in my opinion are family fun and friendly. (Love you guys!) Okay enough of my schmoozing.

I literally just received the disc and Big G and I popped the DVD in to watch the thirty minute program, comprised of two 11-minute stories per episode. I thought it was great! Very reminisce or Sesame Street, late 70s early 80s TV programming. You know the programming I am speaking of, the ones we all grew up on that were just great shows! Nothing mind numbing and at times painful like SpongeBob. While I like SpongeBob and Patrick one liners, definitely not a cartoon for children.

We watched BusyTown Mysteries all the way to the end and Grant wanted to watch again. And again. And again. Until I finally told him that the show is on Saturday’s so we set up the DVR to record just for him. Could you tell he liked the show? I know I did and he was head over heels. He even knew “GoldBug” one of the beloved Richard Scarry characters. I began to wonder how he was so familiar and fond of “GoldBug” and then while cleaning for the day shortly after they watched the movie I found this:

 
If you look quite closely you will see this is an ORIGINAL Richard Scarry book! The beloved characters of GoldBug, Huckle Cat and Lowly Worm in the books and the series are lead by these cute and lovable characters. The book, copyright of 1974, is my husband’s book from when he was a child. So imagine my surprise when The Chad saw the show and was like “OH HEY! GoldBug!” Just like Big G, my dear husband also shares a love and special place for Richard Scarry characters and stories in his life. In fact, Richard Scarry’s books have sold over 150 million copies and have been translated into 30 languages over the last 40 years (One2OneNetwork.com, 2009), so you can imagine how many different generations have grown up on these wonderful books.
The Scarry book that is losing her binding and a treasure in our home is Cars and Trucks and Things That Go and my boys LOVE this book, so I was enamored at the fact that the series would be a big winner in my house, especially if The Chad will watch with Big G, great bonding time for them.
If you kids are more interactive Busytown also entertains and educates fans at home with the fun, interactive website BusytownMysteries.com where kids can explore different neighborhoods in Busytown, interact with the Busytown characters and play 14 games and activities designed for preschoolers, including interactive games, a Fan Club and “My First Email,” which lets little ones email their progress to pre-approved friends and family addresses (One2OneNetwork.com, 2009)
Thank you One2OneNetwork and CBS programming for providing me with a copy of the series to view with my family, I am so glad they were already fans and now I am as well!
one2onenetwork.com
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Have We Met

You want real posts….let’s get real.

Karie Noel (Hudson) Herring
Born July 29th

I have had my life fall apart and put back together again free of assistance, pity, completely lost, insecure, fighting, grappling for proof of life at the end of mass destruction. I have loved, I have lost, I have hated only to transition into pity and finally indifference. I am a “feeler” albeit I take everything personally not purposely but out of a sense of unknown connection, maybe the need for acceptance even though I prefer to be a loner. I have tempted fate, death, only to find life, and that in this life coincidences do not exist, a well plotted three act play. I have my mothers heart and my fathers moxie. But I am damaged, even through pain and healing.

I am a daughter, sister, wife, mother, woman. I can take your breath away and give it back all at once. My beauty does not overwhelm my being, but rather a simple knowledge and modesty that all are as beautiful and the ugliness is in immorality and wickedness.

I am a Leo. By all means I am loyal to the bone though in the face of distrust and disloyal conduct I am a front of offense and meanness a defense mechanism to protect a fragile, kind heart, an open book of emotion and feeling. Once scorned my well-known aura and light of love are scorned to darkness. The sun is my sign, to which I thrive by, radiate, and hunt the light, my internal burning light is what draws others to me, a moth to a flame. I am a survivor, hunting for purpose and tranquility with ferocity and intent. When I have found my prize I am relentless in obtaining that for which I want. I am proud but have swallowed the pill many a times. Like any big cat I crave for the acceptance in my hard work, persistence, the acknowledgment that often is ignored.

“What you see is what you get” 

I make no changes, exceptions, I am who I am. Full of brash comments spewing truth, my boldness is more often mistaken for rudeness albeit snarky but never hurtful with intention. I am a trailblazer and part of this trait is I get what I deserve and as a two part, others reap what I sow mistaking my generosity for charity. I am stubborn, hard-headed, willful and no one stands in my way, however, my kind heart allows me to consider others feelings as to prevent hurt while on my mission. 

Part of who I am is that I am highly observant, seeing the underbelly of truth and meaning, allowing me to gain a higher perspective for any situation and my surroundings. Bullshit can be smelled from a mile away by my extra-sensory call it the sixth sense but the ability to determine a lie from the truth no matter the severity is an uncanny ability when meeting people. My tact and couth however allows me to not always call out the truth for those who blatantly spew and emit falsehoods. However, I am bound by my word, what I say is the truth and I bear life by my own truths. I say what often needs to be said, full of heart, possibly with lack luster but better off speaking to those, I have no fear and would rather say too much than to never say what needs to be said.

I never ask or look for handouts. As no one steps on my dreams I work that much harder. I take pity on those who constantly take and take and never give back, but only give back for their own personal gain, not for the sake of giving, the sheer joy in someone’s pure, truthful enjoyment, I only hope that one day their karma check will be cashed. I rise above and help myself because if I cannot help myself I feel I cannot help others. I also believe hard work only makes one stronger, but I feel I have always worked doubly hard which might explain my jaded outlook, my snarky demeanor. With my hardwork I do not flaut it or promote, maybe I should but I am modest with my hardwork and should not have to spot light ti but rather let the results speak for themselves.

I do not practice any religion but I do answer to a higher moral beacon, with a simple basis of right and wrong, good and bad, earned respect, mortal consideration of beings with feelings. I have no use for divine paragons and divinity is both immanent and transcendent. Mysticism is alive and well, De ja` vu’ is but our past life emerging briefly to foreshadow our well plotted three-act play of life. Life is life, a journey, a constant classroom of new experiences, the rehash of old. Call me a Neo-Pagan, I am more earthbound, the metaphysical excites and intrigues me. I light candles, I pray each time I drive or for those in need of prayer, I think and send out karma and mojo in all directions good or bad. A nice balance if you ask me. But I do not pray to any God or Heavenly Father, but some providential Higher power of sorts. God is not only man but quite possibly a woman. While humans are capable of great feats I do believe not all feats are meant to be reached. An intricate balance between science, technology and the respect for the providential higher power. I am a dreamer but grounded by my realism and perpetual optimism. 

Not always a loner

I never wanted to get married or have children. EVER. My contentedness of traveling a life alone and without rules was highly appealing but my internal driving clock and love for caring for my own young was appealing, and yet unappealing to my lifestyle. I enjoy my alone time and need for three feet of personal space, but I also crave the attention and company of others as long as they are intellectually stimulating. Otherwise I bore easily, simply amusing those to avoid an uncomfortable situation of truths.

I mentioned my ferocity correct? Could you imagine that ferocity in the way I care for my young. Ah yes, the power of the great lioness with her cunning protection and love. My mate also receives a loyal and unwavering love. Speaking of love I am a fiery lover with an insatiable desire for passion and romance. Forbidden love makes my sex on fire and yearn for more.

But even a mother and woman needs her time away to which I pride myself and my flowing mane with a run or a dance. Running is freeing and an adrenaline rush of raw endorphins to work off any angsts, my time for meditation of pure quiet and solitude. I dance because as a Leo and part of who I am I love the limelight, and proud enough to know I am a fabulous dancer. I read for enjoyment and to escape for a fantasy. I daydream but am a realist. However, I know that “days like this” exist.

I am a loyal and truthful friend. As I do take a lot of life personally I cherish and hold onto beautiful relationships. Not everyone can be considered a friend, let alone a best friend, not even family fits the bill of friend. I believe a best friend is close to being like family where he or she is never disloyal, unfaithful, and loves without conditions. Friends are not based on convenience but a spiritual, quite possibly divine connection, people cut from the same cloth. Maintaining the same level of morals, integrity, principles and values for people as humans regardless of wrong doings, the Rogerian theory of we are all inherently good by nature.

I hope I said all that I needed to say.

With that I hope you have a better glimpse into what kind of person I am and my friendship.
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My New Reality Show

Forget the “Table for 12” and move over “Jon and Kate” because had my body gotten her way….I would have had my own reality show. Seriously 7 kids in 4 pregnancies…do the math. We would have been a school of fish…or maybe a gaggle as the title would be so fittingly called.

I shared my story of not always being a mom and my conception quest, but little did you know that conception was the least of our problems.

When DH and I began our parenthood journey we did like every couple does. We screwed like rabbits. We did. All the time, anywhere, anytime, whenever we could. Here, there, everywhere. We were like Sam I Am eating our green eggs and ham.

After a year or more of trying and still an empty nest and a cold oven, we did what the old wives would do:

  • Stand on my head
  • Tilt your hips at a certain angle
  • Not move after sex (okay, passing out counts too)
  • Drinking a caffeinated beverage
  • Not drinking a caffeinated beverage
  • Waiting a few days in between
  • Eating more beef
  • Taking my temperature
  • Took his for good measure

You get the gist.

So when a baby didn’t come we began to question our ability. My ability. I knew it was all me. Something drastically changed after my appendectomy. I did not have a traditional appy but a nasty ooey gooey mess of peritonitis appy. The kind you clearly die from, which I almost did. I had complication after complication and I think I have had more CT scans than anyone under the age of 25 is allowed. Finally after recovery and giving up and just getting back to rabbit shifting and the occasional married sexless night we get pregnant.

JOY & RAPTURE I tell you!

I could not believe the test in front of me. I freaked. I freaked some more. I ran to the store and bought more tests. PINK, PINK, and more PINK told me YES! I called the boss on a Sunday to tell him I was running late for work and they could sell cars without me to draw up papers for at least an hour. I ran to DH’s work and surprised him with a bib that says “I Love Daddy.”

He looked at me like I was nuts. He looked at the bib confused. Me confused, the bib is nuts! Sheepishly he says, “You’re….??” YUP! And like that we were pregnant. But not like that was all that hard….or easy. Nothing in life has ever been easy for me. Not saying I have had the hardest life, but I was never given even the chance to look at a silver spoon.

A few weeks later…cramps, bleeding. Possibly a scare. Went home to rest and called the doc. They said go to the ER if it gets worse. So I did, as the pain got worse. Six hours later….a threatened abortion which means that bleeding happened but the pregnancy seems A-OK. Wait until my docs appointment to follow up. Which was at least a two month wait. But clearly my body and higher powers had other decisions because only a week and a half later I was in the same ER. FOR. EVER! Writhing in pain. Wanting to kill the nurse. Wanting something for the pain but not wanting to hurt the pregnancy. After an ultrasound and many more hours of waiting on into the morning of Easter Sunday we get the news. We are miscarrying.

Devastation. And then the five stages of grief. I took a week off of work to get my act together. During that week I still did not experience any “miscarriage” per se. Lots of pain. Burning in my upper top thighs. More pain. I called my doc. At least 100 times. I had some incompetent nurse attempt to coddle me as if I was a teen pregnancy. My mom finally told me….”Karie, this is the time to be a bitch!” So I did. And was I ever in my doctors office faster than you could make the appointment. An ultrasound was done and an “Oh Shit” was said by the sonographer when the doctor came in to tell me I was being admitted to the hospital downtown.

OK

Por que? Well, seems that I have a “blighted ovum” which is a pregnancy that didn’t take in my uterus and an ectopic pregnancy. Fabulous. What does that mean? A surgery and a D&C. So I lost my right fallopian tube and twins all in one fail swoop. Great first round.

For months later while I wallowed in my sorrow, continued to work my ass off at the dealership with the false hope of ever getting a promotion, I researched my condition. Was it a condition or a fluke? Turns out I had a condition. I had adhesion’s from my appendectomy, severe enough to wrap themselves around my right fallopian tube, choking off the path. I researched pregnancy with one tube after an ectopic. Chances of another ectopic at the time were HIGH. Chances of getting pregnant on one fallopian tube. 34%. The odds sucked. So in July of 2002, a few months after the ectopic I had a test done to determine my chances of pregnancy on my left fallopian tube.

The test seemed simple enough. Inject dye into the tube, do X-Ray simultaneously, done! Not so much. They only told me that before until I got there when they decided to open my cervix with a plastic balloon to shoot the dye into my fallopian tube. Pain pain and more pain, followed shortly by burning, burning, buring. Get this done! Success. The left tube is open no problems.

So we washed, rinsed, and repeated the above pregnancy attempting ritual. Until one fateful December night, on the red chair. My mother now owns that chair. *Hi Mom! Yes, Christmas Eve to be exact. Weird how I know this but I just know. In the meantime our house in up for sale, we have plans of moving from then Albuquerque to here (Arizona) and I am job searching. In January I fly to Phoenix for five interviews and land a job. Fly back that night, and the next day plan to submit my resignation working until the end of the month. Because I was a greedy bastard at the time running a department I wasn’t given enough pay or the title for the 100 plus hours I was putting in and the bullshit I would shovel each day.

Into work I go. Daily morning meeting. Then I am asked to stay behind by the GM and the owner. My heart is racing which tells me…they know I am bailing. YUP. They told me I didn’t have to stay until the end of the month, I would be paid out on all my deals (SA-WEET!), my vacation, and this month (last months deals) pay. FAN- FREAKING-TASTIC! Vacation! Until I got home.

I had a suspicion. So I took a pregnancy test. And another. And yet another, until I had eight urine sticks waving in front of me like an orchestra. Pretty much I was pregnant. I freaked. I called my mom again. I called DH. Hey dude….I got let go today AND I’m pregnant AND we are moving in two weeks.

Yeah, that’s how we roll.

That was January 2003 and on September 14, 2003 we welcome our Grant baby.

So after being settled in Arizona, buying the house, in May we get a huge oops! Yes. BIG. OOPS. May 2004 mind you. I am pregnant again, totally spontaneous, not planned. Only this time I am mad. In total denial. Hubs is excited. Sure. Of course you would! You don’t have to be pregnant, fat, have heart burn, hemorrhoids, indigestion, swelling, random farts, sure. Peachy Freaking Keen! We get into to see the doctor right away. I am finally getting used to the pregnant idea. I have told people…bitterly, but with a smile. I am bitter because I JUST had a BABY! YEESH! So the ultrasound day comes, early mind you because I am high risk. Nanner nanner. Sorry. So really, high risk so they do an ultrasound to be safe. Would you believe it.

TWINS

I about died. Reanimated myself, slapped the hubs, told the doctor he was lying and seriously changed my shorts. NO. No way! Oh yes, and they are identical. Why? How can you tell? By the sac. They are monoamniotic twins which means that they are (were) sharing the same placental sac. Not good. But the doc says the ultrasound seems funny, so he wants to see me in another four weeks. Pleasure.

Four weeks later we are in the office. Ultrasound again. The doctor is taking all sorts of pictures, not saying much. We sit in silence, with an eight month old. The twins are not growing, they are failing, no heartbeat. Crushed. Just when I got used to the idea of having twins, and being pregnant for that matter, the low blow. I am devastated. Not again. Not another loss. We leave in silence. Only after the doctor reassured us that I will miscarry on my own within the week. Here is my medication. But had the twins gone full term we would have experienced twin-to-twin transfusion, possible heart failure, major health complications. We accepted the blessing in disguise. Nonetheless any easier.

Neither was going into full blown labor, in your home, in the middle of the night and not being in the hospital. I wish for no woman to experience the horror and pain at 17 weeks the miscarriage of a child, or two.I know you wonder why I didn’t wake my husband, to support. I tell you ladies, there are things in life that we spare the ones we love the experience and overall trauma. I know he is strong, but not like this, this is unlike anything any man or woman who has children would want to go through or even have a support team to share with. This is a loner job. One that sickens me, but I know everything happens for a reason.

After that I am done with children. Grant wasn’t named Grant for no reason, he is our gift, our blessing. We moved on. Or so I thought.

I was a hot mama! I was looking good, lost all my baby weight and was looking hot. We take a trip to Reno Nevada for our dear friends second wedding. Yes they had two. They are goobers. He has his wedding which was called the Vow-B-Que, they exchanged vows, were legally married, Ta-Dah! She got the white wedding in January of 2007 when we flew out again. During this time DH is nostalgic, we are missing Grant since he was with grandparents, and the day we fly out, we find our friends are pregnant, right before they leave for their honeymoon!  But the night before in an alcohol induced state, the hubs says to me “Let’s have another baby.”

Yeah…he baited me.

Months pass, we hear The Police are doing a reunion tour. SO. THERE. And we were. On the floor of USAirways Center in Downtown Phoenix. We have a sitter. A Hotel within walking distance. DATE night at its finest. We partied up the night, totally nostalgic in The Police concert on June 18, 2007. We then head back to call it a night…if you know what I mean. Wouldn’t you know just a few weeks later. I am pregnant. AGAIN!

WITH. TWINS.

Now the chapters have closed. The third and final twin pregnancy was a success!
Because on February 15th 2008 @ 36 weeks and 4 days I delivered Seth and Sara.

I tell you I am the luckiest and blessed spontateously, pregnanting twins, all the time woman ever!
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Who’s Got Your Back

Name three people. THREE. Influential or not, name three people in your life that will always, and I mean always have your back. Not three people you can count on for a beer, a cup of sugar, not those types, but THREE strong, permanent people in your life that you can rely on at all times.

Hard to do?

If you can name THREE people without hesitation and one of those is not your “lord and savior” then chances are you have found the three strongest people in your life and will have your back at all times. These individuals will not always bail you out of jail, lend you sugar, enjoy a pint at your local pub, these (at the very least) three people will have your back in some of the best and the worst low down times in your life.

The time and place of our world now is a setting of instant gratification, our worst times can be relieved at the quick stroke of  a keyboard or the click of the mouse, a pill, or a bottle, even our best of times are celebrated in such a way where the intimacy of person to person relations is completely removed.

Long gone are the days of having to thumb your way through the black laden and dyed yellow paper of an actual physical yellow pages, the warm printed scent of inked, dusty paper. Long gone are the days of nights for coffee, long chats on the phone often resulting in exorbitant phone charges and fees. Long gone are the days of an actual face-to-face interview, conversation, or meeting.

We have webinars, Twitter, conference call interviews with panelists, email, blogs, texts, and IM (Instant Messenger).

Truth be told I attended a function held by a local fellow blogger here in Phoenix, Kelly Loubet, you know her on Twitter as @Childhood and I was nervous. I. was. nervous. Why? Because I was actually going to meet face-to-face with someone who I had only acquainted myself with online. I was nervous and ecstatic all at once. The experience could probably compare to the first day of school or a mom date (moms night out). We held good conversation for being so late and only really talking online. I thoroughly enjoyed actually meeting someone who I had only met online. A thrill. A completely new realm for me.

My instance of meeting Kelly is out of the ordinary to some, even for myself. I have always had fresh meetings with people I had never met before through mutual acquantainces or friends, a meeting with someone that I had met online was very foreign, scary, new, exciting and wonderful all at the same time. Some people spend their entire existences talking only online, never engaging in face-to-face moments or settings, but rather a proverbial sea of type-written text.  However, others do meet in a standard fashion, some positive, others not as positive. But one would have to wonder, have we really lost the personable touch, the guarantee of the people we meet that certain individuals may be subliminally and quite possibly divinely chosen to be our guardians, the ones who always have our backs or maybe just friends, casual acquantainces, best friends, future colleagues, networking associates.

I recently experienced a tragic loss. A loss I have never felt, experienced, and I know more are coming in my life, I am bracing for these losses. I did not know who to turn to first in my grief, in my loss, who did I pour my heart and soul to, WHO had MY BACK?

1. My husband. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I married my best friend. I turned in my shock, my awe, my silenced sadness and grief. Burning eyes and breaking heart. The empty filling my chest. The inability to take a full breath as if the weight of the world was placed on my chest. The slow taste of bile rising in my throat with every swallow I took in my grief.

2. My step-dad. I drove to my mothers the night of my loss. A loss truly that I did not share alone, shared truly with some many others, but all I felt was my pain, and I needed to be with my family. On my way to my mother’s house I picked her up from a gathering she was at with my step-dad. I needed my mother, her aura of comfort and the consciousness of “everything will be okay” even though every cell in my body felt otherwise. She was at a gathering with my step-dad. We waved our hellos as I chauffeured my mother to her house, but I knew I had to stop. I honked the horn got out of the car and ran into the arms of my step-dad. I needed a hug. I knew I didn’t have to say a word. I never have had to say much to him, he knew. He knew my pain, he knew my loss, he knew I needed his strength and that he always had my back. Despite all of our differences, pains, and angst’s we have shared together, he has always had my back.

3. Jen. Our friendship began as a “friend of a friend” but as time has passed a bond has developed. One I had not ever truly taken notice. I have found in my growing age that I do a lot more watching, listening, I am more aware. I became more aware of the bond I had formed with my friend. That her pain that she felt, is feeling, is still reeling to control as waves splash over her from time to time, are now my pain. The burning emptiness, the drive in life that we both share, our unyielding love and loyalty to our friends and family, she and I are one in the same. Unlimited amounts of time can pass and we would never know any different. I knew at this point in my life that Jen had my back. I KNEW I could confide in her at all levels. No matter what. Day or night, even if I never did confess my deepest confidences, I knew I always could.

I am also lucky enough to share a growing bond with a few groups of women on different spectrums of my life. More and more as time passes and with each encounter, I know, I can count on these women. But sadness will wave over me that the people I thought I could confess to are not who they appear to be. Blood is not always thicker than water and those bonds, quite frankly are saddening. With the loss of my dear love, my grandfather, I too lost dream. That one day a family would be united. At the services I watched. I watched generations of family bonded by blood and divided otherwise. Knowing that the other did not have their back, generations of siblings and parents, children and grandchildren, bonded and divided. I wasn’t sure what really was more wrenching, the pain in the loss of my family patriarch or the loss of ties, bonds, love because you knew no other because of the genial ties that bind. Saddened too because of the lack of connections. Our family had now become a network, “just Facebook me,” “send me a text,” “tweet me,” “email me” the time felt as if we no longer had that connection. We now were just rolled into the sea of social networking, no longer a famillial unit, but networkers within our own genial lines.

So when you think you know who has your back you might possibly be mistaken. In times of loss and greatest successes do you know who has your back, who shares in your joy, knows your pain. The sixth sense is always the gut instinct, your gut will tell you of friends and foes, confirm your fears and doubts, and will enforce that the human touch, the human interaction, the ability to sympathize and empathize are beyond more than an email, a text, a Tweet. Something very few can exhibit personally and virtually.

With that I am blessed to know that “durdles” will mean more. A laugh is the cure for the soul. Not only do we have friendships but we have been chosen as the ones to watch each others back. These fabulous individuals just know. They know your fears and doubts, give you a hand up when you are down, respect you.
And we know who’s got your back.

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Gifts for Her: ScentCrafters

Nothing in the world is more unique to a woman than something that she made or something that was made out of love for her. While on my quest for fabulous gifts for women for the holidays I came across ScentCrafters and their superior service. Have you ever wanted to make your own fragrance like the stars? Maybe even name your fragrance, all your own, pick the bottle style, color, shape, the entire process?

scentcrafters.com, thefivefish.com, perfume

Make this wish come true for the woman in your life by visiting the ScentCrafters site and creating a very personalized fragrance for the special woman in your life and name the fragrance just for her. Or better yet, order a gift certificate and let her create her own scent, instigate her own name and choose from all the wonderful options for bottles.

thefivefish.com, Karie Herring, scentcrafters.comAs you can see this is my personal bottle. Lurve it don’t you? You want to touch it, spray it, hold it. I called it Atlantis to go with my “fishy” family theme. Plus I am a die hard romantic and geek for mythology. The scent I chose is actually based on the commercial perfumes. I love Chanel No. 5 (and I mean LOVE it) and I love anything Victoria’s Secret so I chose a beautiful blend of Victoria’s Secret Divine and Chanel No. 5 and let me tell you….wonderful, romantic, ultra feminine, and not overpowering or raunchy. Just absolutely heavenly. I love to spray some on after a shower.

You can also choose of up to five scents in your fragrance for a truly unique style and blend of perfume. The scents are described in their entirety so you really cannot go wrong, ScentCrafters also has a scents suggestion to tell you which scents will pair best together with your top, middle, and bottom notes.

Just imagine the woman in your life enjoying this wonderful luxury of her very own perfume, with satin bag, personalized name to her fragrance, and she can always order more!

But do not just take my word on this wonderful product. Go visit the Scent Crafters site, also be sure to check out the option to purchase multiple bottles. Prices start at $39.99 for an individual bottle and $18 for an order of 10 or more. That is equivalent to your standard commercial bottle if you think about the pricing for the bundle and still a steal for the price of a single bottle. Spoil the woman you love this year by gifting her a fragrance she will never forget.

Don’t forget to DOWNLOAD your Copy of the catalog HERE and all the fabulous participants, savings, and giveaways!
 *Five Fish always blog ethically and with transparency.
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My Conversation

The virtual diary. The Weblog of old and blog of new. A typepad diary to release inner demons, woe on politics, spew nonsense on the grandest scales, possibly invent a new comedy facet even Shakespeare could revel.

Diaries are not always meant to be read while others are published; some are for shock value, some are for reciprocal relations (not feeling alone in the world), and some are just written diarrhea that communicate nothing but allow us something else to stare aimlessly into a monitor.

While I am not “expert,” self-proclaimed “guru,” or self-proclaimed “top blogger” I do claim to be full of shit. Honestly. I have a lot of minutiae in my life that has molded me into the productive human being I am today. For example, I have been laboring in the employment arena for over 15 years. I am also an adult-child of an alcoholic. You want to know about alcoholism and how the “disease” (for lack of a better word) can destroy a family ask me so, I can tell you first hand. I can also share with you the art of being proactive, rather than reactive. Although sometimes reactions can be fun if you really want to spice up your dull suburban life. Other experiences include the loss of lives, lives I took part in creating but clearly an upperhand had other plans beyond my control. Experience life on drugs, the detox, share how even a prescription drug to keep you from feeling nuts can send you into a downward life spiral of dementia, then rising again anew.

Sometimes my blog makes sense. Sometimes my blog is a surprise of epic proportions where I can show the Skittle rainbow and then taketh away by showing you the dark depths of an inner child scorned by hurt and deception, smoke and mirrors. Sometimes I engage you in a comedic touch and others I attempt to engage you in a conversation and they aren’t always superficial or “socially acceptable.”  I also am in no way attempting to win any award, although I have some friends that I cherish who think I invented sliced bread and award me so, for them, I am full of heart, eternally grateful. (aka Ally,

Which brings me to a blog post I read today from a bloggy friend of mine who feels she is not of influence. What is influence really? Influence as I understand the meaning is that an action will have an effect. Sounds scientific…possibly not. I look at influence and the laws of cause and effect from a Buddhist standpoint.  For every cause there is an effect. Example: A lonely cow is in her field, she sees a herd pass, she joins the herd. The cause a herd passes your path, the effect, you become part of the cattle. (see where I am heading)

For example, the effect of turtling (hanging in one spot and one spot alone) where the flow of any traffic is impeded, the effect is that traffic will begin to gather around. That is not a gravitational pull, but your wide ass obstaining from moving, thus preventing in some cases bloggy constipation. However, if you act as a honey bee, visiting flower here and flower there, the results may not be immediate, but the effect is cross pollination, pollination period, the want of the flowers, for you the honey bee, to return each and every time. I felt my bloggy friend is very much the honey bee, while others are turtling excrements merely taking up space.She is the steady and constant bee on her pollination route, and one season soon, she will reap the rewards of all she has sown.

Blogs, emails, posts, Tweets, texts, and phone calls can all be a conversation. Short and sweet. Long and meaningful, or merely scripted fum is chum or is it Chum is Fum for the masses to gobble. (Yes that is a SpongeBob reference…..) Either way, the influence is the effect that is caused by what was said, how did you resonate in that individual (the cause), good or bad, he or she is clearly reaching for conversation, whether you choose to listen or answer proactively is up to you, because I see that both listening and proactive responses are participation in a conversation. You cannot converse if someone is not listening, and even when you think you are alone in your conversation, someone, just someone may be listening. Hold steady, hold true, and do not lose your love and feeling for your conversation. The cause of conversation is in effect influence.

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A Super Halloween

At times a mom can over think a situation. I was always told by my mother, buy the RIGHT size as some items run larger (like costumes) and some run smaller (wedding dresses).

So this year I was the ultimate mom with the goal to totally humilate her twins in true mom style with the sick humor that I have. Murphy and Karma stepped in. Foiled again.

The gnomes were suppose to dress up as just that! GNOMES! AWESOME! Garden gnomes. But alas, I think one garden gnome was called away for a Travelocity commercial. So the Little Bitty was left to tend to the garden by herself while I rushed as fast as I could to the store to exchange the too small gnome outfit for one that fit.

Foiled.
They were sold out. But we did make “Doo”  and the kids had a blast!
Lots of candy for mom and dad to eat.
Karie Herring, thefivefish.com, Halloween, costumes
Karie Herring, thefivefish.com, Halloween, costumes
Big G went as Obi Wan and he really looked like him….if only he wasn’t so cracked out on candy I could get a picture of him. He ended up having a sleep over at his friend’s house next door.
You can also see my kids are way too busy to sit still for pictures!
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Picking

Like we have always said here at The Five Fish, some Jedi mind trick wisdom:

 

nose picking
Courtesy of Flickr. https://goo.gl/WVSmCG
You can pick your nose

& You can pick your friends
BUT YOU CAN’T PICK YOUR FRIENDS NOSE!!
Dedicated to my awesome friends. (You know who you are)
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Everything is a Process

I have been repeating that statement in my head ALL DAY. More than a million. Reminding myself. I really hate to come to my blog but this is the only place where I feel like I can get it out. Out of my head. Patch my bleeding heart in some way. (As the hubs asks me if I am downloading midget porn….thank you dear for the comedic relief….I needed a giggle)

I have to say thank you to so many….SO MANY of you who have given me your condolences. You truly have no idea how much of an impact that made on me. I had strength, I had courage, until today. The day of all days.

Why the FUCK (sorry…I’m emotional here) do people call it a celebration of life? Truly I know my grandpa had the most awesome life, but who was celebrating. Everyone I saw….crying. My poor aunts lost their composure today when watching the remembrance video. I held steady. My (if you can call him that) father was losing his composure. My brothers and sisters (all of them were there…which was cool….we haven’t all been together since we were kids). My poor Big G his big sweet heart began to mist. But I held steady, shedding tears, but not my true pain. The excruciating, empty, WHAT IN GOD’S NAME IS WRONG WITH ME, sadness, pain, I mean I am a walking depression commercial. I wanted to actually Vlog this, because typing is painful when you have to continue to wipe tears on your shoulder while typing. GAWD.

Seriously, don’t pity me or feel sorry. I just need to be able to get this out. To get out that I am bouncing through these feelings. My mind is so blank I had to Google the five stages of grief. I mean seriously!? I had them memorized and now I had to Google. Yeesh!

  1. Denial – I am in constant denial. Denial that the man who had more bearing on my life as a child than any other, who truly loved unconditionally (in my eyes) is gone. Never to be seen, heard, hugged, that is just killing me.
  2. Anger – Why!!?? Why did MY grandpa have to die. I know everyone has a time. But why now? Why when I only saw him at Christmas that I did not get a chance to make it more, to do more. Why not someone else, somewhere else.
  3. Bargaining – Dear God, Dear someone, please bring him back. I didn’t see a body, he can come back, to love all those who love him. He can be well. I have to say this is THE first and only funeral I have been to where I have not seen someone in a casket. I know that sounds awfully morbid, but everyone who has died in my lifetime had a casket. I had closure because I could process in my mind a lifeless body to the beautiful soul. I know, sick, but its a mental thing clearly.
  4. Depression – My overwhelming feelings. I have moments where I am good. I keep going, I don’t stop. I don’t think I keep myself in a perpetual state of motion. I am matter, always moving, never stopping, not even a yield and I will be okay. But one look at his photo…I am a goner. I spiral into an emotional abyss that tears at my soul. An emptiness. Truly, as if I know that I have lost a bit of myself with this man. I think I am totally nuts. No one else is showing such feelings. No one else is a blubbering damn mess. I am crazy, I am losing it. Aren’t I? People don’t feel this way, get yourself together Karie. Pull it together. Someone will commit you. PULL. IT. TOGETHER.
  5. Acceptance – Mentally I have accepted his loss, my loss. But my heart has not accepted. So back again I go, through the previous four stages.

I try to pretend everything is normal, that I will be normal. But I want a whole day to cry, to not have to socialize with people acting like life is grand. It is, truly, but I wanted one day I could just bawl my eyes out till I needed ice packs for the swelling, to curse in anger, to yell blasphemy for my loss, to beg and plead with a God I do not believe in to bring my beloved back. My grandpa, the one person I have ever felt so close to. I guess that is why this whole ordeal is just a cluster for me. I have never had a loss of this proportion, of someone so close to me.  I feel like I have to hide this pain. To show I am strong, I will go on (which I know I will, but still, have you ever been hit so hard in the gut you lost your breath…..that is my feeling). Why do I feel like I have to jump to my acceptance? Has anyone else felt this? I know a friend of mine has, but I guess I need to call her (Yes Jen, I am talking about you! I wub joo….I will be emailing you or calling you where ever you are in your “retirement.”) so I can really see if I am normal. If my feelings are normal. Because I truly hate that I feel so out of control with my feelings about my grandpa. Anyone else feel this way when they suffered a loss? How did you grieve? I know its a process….but good gawd…..