Friday, July 31, 2009


Dice crackled against the white trim like pop rocks in our mouths.

Squeals of "I got a 1, mama!" pelt out from little Casey face. "B" in hand, sleep wrinkles still yawning on his face from the afternoon nap, he smiles at me. His eyes twinkling with excitement.

There I sit on the hardwood floor in the foyer right in front of the front door where the light happies best and watch while popping my own speckled fireworks against the trim.

I shift my view to watch my other counterpart. This gambler, a long legged, brown butter bean with eyes so blue at times they play traitor to indigo. His hair straight up the side with points that he calls "fire hair" from his mid -afternoon slumber, he rolls with vigor.

'Mom, I got a 5 and 3." Eli professes. No need for excitement as he plays the role too well of i'mabigboy. Brows furrowed, lips protrudingly pursed, he pauses. I watch and wonder. Then, "That would be 8, mom. Eight. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8. 5 and 3 make 8..." He trails off with a posturing glance at me. "That's right, huh Mommy?"

"Yes, sweet boy! It is." I resound with a rub-scratch-rub of his "fire hair". I am rewarded with a small sideways smile with lips and indigo eyes only quickly fading to brow furrows and dice shaking once again.

My late afternoon begins.

Amid the pop-cracking-counting, a man comes strolling up our front sidewalk with clipboard in hand. His walk is steady. His sunglasses tell tale of a sleekness and seriousness to his day.

Little eyes catch a glimpse of this figure and shouts begin. Clapping heeds way to jumps and banging on the glass door at this man on our front step. Sunglasses lift only to spy the silliest pair of google eyes as his militant lips turn smile into silly.

Daddy's home.

Hugs and high fives all around. Except me.

I stand back and watch this welcome parade unfold until it's my turn. This man then finds me with his eyes and comes closer.

"Hi, wife." he says through a soft smile. Then I feel his arms wrap around my waistline for a hug. I oblige. Stepping back he peers at me with his indigo hues and reaches his lips to mine almost to re-inact the pop crackling of the dice against the trim, we kiss.

With quick "How was your days?" exchanged, I listen as does he. I splatter off house dreams, teaching ideas with the boys, and the rundown of our day to him. He gazes at the computer screen in and out, and then I watch him stop.

He finds my eyes with his and they no longer play cat and mouse with the screen.

He knows what I need.

My evening begins.

With hot dogs grilling and fresh onions chopped, we hear, "Mama, Daddy, come outside!" Eli bellows from the back porch. "Casey and me are having circle time and we want you too."

I arrive first to see deck chairs in the sweetest little circle with 2 little barefooted boys awaiting our arrival. Daddy is on his way.

"Here we are. Our family is together in a circle. I like this. Look, all of our chairs are touching." so innocently with unabashed joy Eli utters through a smile.

I look over and see that same smile from my husband. And then see my wee one with "B" in hand and two fingers and a just-a-goin suckle-suck in his mouth.

And it's true. All of our chairs are touching.

Hands woven together around the table with food aplenty before us, we pray.

Daddy asks to pray tonight. The boys sigh and profess small whines for their way, but daddy resounds back that it is his turn.

With heads bowed, he thanks the Lord for our many blessings, for His will in our lives, for His work on the ones who don't know Him, and then pauses. My eyes, so curiously wanting to sneak a peak open, but I remain silent and shut knowing all too well that 2 pairs of eyes beside me have already indulged in sneak-a-peaking.

"God, thank you for my family. For my boys and my wife. Thank you for times like these that you pile on top of us. Our times of playing together, snuggling together, reading together and just being together in our home.

In Jesus name, Amen."

Bites in and thoughts out, we talk about silly somethings and big boasts of our day. Making our bed for the first time by ourselves, the toys spotted at the Dollar Tree, new k.Mac orders from the day, the last day of 2-a-day preseason practices...

2 more bites of grapes and the rest of your hot dogs later, I find myself in the studio beginning my night.

Amid the buzzing of my sewing machine, I sip my Cabernet and allow my ears to wander.

The sounds of music in just the other room giveway to the clanking of dishes against a stainless sink. Chatters of "I put my cup and plate in the sink!" back and forth to the other and then the scampering of little feet upstairs. With a quick clean of a simple hot dog dinner complete, husband makes his way up too.

The music stays in just the next room though. As if lonely, the melody lingers its way to my studio just down the hall.

Vibrant fabrics before me, I create. Stroking this design, my fingers ever-the-double checkers for my near perfectionist mind.

The Paper Doll. A handbag created in my mind long before order forms, a website, and clients knew of its name.

I sip and sew all the while listening to the splashing of 3 men in a tub with squirt guns and laughter loud.

I smile and sip some more.

Voice inflections and train sounds bellowing, it's reading time for my men. "Just 2 books" gives way to a scattering of 6 or ll. But whose counting.

Seasons of songs later, yet all what seems in the blink of an eye, it's time to punch out my time card. I settle for a brief and easy clean up and say good night to my little haven.

Freshly ground coffee makes its way in at its usual time and place, I ready for the morning before heading up to finish off my night. Shuffle stepping, my way upstairs is filled with anticipation of what will be before me.

With a toss of the dirty kitchen linens into the laundry basket, I round the corner into our bedroom. I am greeted by grins and giggles 3 all nestled under our bed's quilt.

It's late. Long past is the hour of little boy slumber.
But that's okay.

Okay because 2 boys are growing up much too fast not to pounce on the smallest opportunities for lovin' and snugglin' from one daddy bear.

I pile in. Dirty feet and all as I am serenaded with, "Get in, mama. Get in!"

And I gladly oblige.

The smell of warm snuggles and clean soapy necks all hugged up with fresh jammies is a scent that can never be re-created nor forgotten; my smile grows.

A double bed full bodied with love, happiness, contentment, and togetherness; I am home.

Time for bed finally makes her grand entrance much to my little ones dismay. Her welcome committee of yawns and eye-rubbing never is quite welcomed by the boys.

Down the hall we go, a boy for each, we split at the fork in the road to each room. Bedtime prayers and begs to be rocked crossed off the checklist in Casey face's room, he swiftly finds his peaceful slumber.

I dance a two-step partner exchange as Kenny and I trade off to say our last nite-nites to the other boy. Walking into Eli's room, I am greeted by the darkness, the flickering fan above, and his silhouette. He's little boy body propped on his side up on one elbow waiting for his mama's last kisses. He's growing big.

"I love you, sweet E-man. Have good dreams. We will play in the morning." I say as I pepper his face with sugars.

"I love you, mom." he resounds and quick as the wind, he is out. As if all he needed was my last love bits, I like to think.

Their daddy and me have plans for a movie. The comfort of the pillows and the rain outside trickling down has other plans.

Touching in whatever fashion fits us best, skin-to-skin, we close our eyes and all is well.

My evening's end.
Perhaps my everyday prayer that Eli spoke of will be answered.
Our chairs will always touch...

.mac :)

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Catch All

Should you or someone you know of posess one stinkin' cute wee one who upchucks breastmilk and/or formula on quite a frequent basis, k.Mac will be glad to be your catch all.

{This is where the maternal me inserts the visual I have of the countless times I have been spit up/vomitted on and TOTALLY reached out to catch "it" before "it" hit the floor, my shirt, the couch, someone else, etc.}

Moms {the eternal catch all}

.mac :)

Brief Relief





My nose.

.mac :)

Tuesday, July 28, 2009


Bacon +
the Great Smoky Mountains =

Yes, it's true. There ain't no party like a piggy party cause a piggy party is BEST! I have been blessed to marry into a very superfine family. A very superfine family with a set of superfine girls.Meet my mother-in-law, Carlene. {take note of the piggy coffee cup and shirt, please}

And now meet Kenny's Aunt Bea. {No, she doesn't have a bladder problem. We had just come from the pool.}

Allow me to explain. Ahem. Pig Tour stands for:
  • Pretty

  • Important

  • Girls

  • Taking

  • On

  • Unbelievably

  • Rowdy Rituals

The 2 Queen Sows above, Carlene and Bea, informally began Pig Tour well before it ever had its name. These 2 were roommates while their husbands were off at duty living the life of the all time best slumber party. They did everything together. Marrying brothers gave them the added bonus of becoming family or in these parts, "kin."

Carlene gave birth to 3 wonderful children {one being my hotty husband and the other 2 being my hotty sister-in-laws, Kristi and Melissa. Bea gave birth to 2 spirited girls: Becky and Kathy.

Add 1 niece in for good measure along the way and me, the only un-blood of the bunch daughter/sister-in-law, and that gives you 8 ladies looking for a whole lotta gabbin', eatin', and laughin'.

This year makes our 6th year to celebrate Pig Tour. Every year there are so many ridiculous outfits we have worn to "Fancy Night", countless silly pig garb accessories such as pig slippers, pig hats, pig earrings, feather boas, pig necklaces, pig sunglasses all that we have been gleefully guilty of wearing in and about our pig outings.

Basically it's a free-for-all weekend devoted to nothing but the sheer pleasure of being around one another and eating the most delightfully disgraceful-to-your-waistline of yummies. {Yes, we ordered that many. Yes, we eat that many.}
The cabin is decorated with pig motif the minute we walk in. Pillows, throws, cups, pictures; it's the most pig paraphernalia you will ever see in one place. I kid you not.
Alas this year, every piggy voted on a weekend to rest and relax. Our normal public social functions like pig bowling, "Fancy Night" eating, swim meets, and Fanny Farkle footlong corndog contests were pushed to the side this year for a weekend of no bras, no make-up, and whole lotta togetherness in our cabin. Here are Kathy, Melissa, and Becky in full game mode. Game night is every night on Pig Tour.
Sow Kristi giving her team her piggy all in Pictionary. {Yes, those are, in fact, pig glasses atop her head.}
Queen Sow Bea, Sow Becky, Sow Kristi and myself spent the early afternoon lounging at the pool. {Why yes. Yes, of course that would be a pink pig sequined visor on my head.} Queen Sow Bea is quick as a whip with humor. The camera catches us all on the brink of her funny.
Sow Melissa was a pro with the waffle iron to produce the best breakfast any pig could want. {along with the bacon in the above picture} Upon returning from the pool, I was asked to jump in and help with dinner preparation...
I tried my best to duplicate Mrs. Piggy Crocker up above! Perhaps aprons aren't my thing. For sure aprons with bathing suits and pink pig sequined visors aren't!
The hot tub was right off of our top balcony overlooking the mountains you saw above. It was divine to be the one in the "bathtub" instead of the one on her knees giving the bath for a night or 2.

There was spa time. The PedEgg was in FULL effect. Tweezers too. Along with masks, rubs, hot oil treatments, and moisture repair sessions. Melissa is a whiz with those eye tongs, I tell you. I need her right about now. The last day is always deemed "Awards Day." {Yes, there are sashes. What kind of Pig Outfit do you think we run here anyway?} There are ballots too. We vote for the following awards based on the events and ongoings of Pig Tour weekend:

  • Most Spirited Piggy
  • Splashiest Piggy
  • Piggy Got Game
  • Bad, Bad Piggy
  • Fanciest Piggy
  • Sloppiest Piggy
  • Most Food Consumed
  • Funniest Piggy
  • and last, but not least, BEST OF SHOW!
What award isn't complete without a certificate?
And guess who won Best of Show for the 2nd time? None other than k. of k.Mac! Sow Kristi brought home the pigware. {Meet Spamela. She is the Best of Show trophy. She lives at the recipient's home for their year in reign. She is one beautiful piece of purple clay, isn't she?}
Here are Carlene and her girls.
And here's the cast and crew of Pig Tour! {Yes, thematic t-shirts are made every year, duh?}

Resting and rejoicing with the ones you love never made me smile snort more.

.mac :)

Monday, July 27, 2009


As of late, my mind has been waltzing with the idea of perspective. Gliding about nonchalantly as the rhythm sporadically takes us; we dance. The way at which and from which you look at any given circumstance really is an illustrious beat. I'm enjoying my skirt swaying to and fro as we make our turns about the dance floor of life. Me and Perspective.
Perhaps the needle was placed on the record of my dance floor mind from the recent movies Kenny and I have watched all cuddled up after boys are in full slumber. This film brilliantly flooded my heart with ideas of aging, integrity, pride, and sacrifice. Yet this film spirited my mind with the need for attention to precise details, strategy, and determination.
I use the word illustrious for the first time, in a way, as I feel like I have always been a typically closed minded individual. I don't know if this is due to the way I was raised or just simply because this is the pattern in which my mind works best. I feel like that to each there is comfort in knowing that their way is the way. Their thoughts are what is right.

Illustrious is the word I use as God has given me a bundle of opportunities with which I am learning to understand the prescription lens is different for each person peering in.
And this multiple choice way of looking at life isn't wrong to me. God's plans and his expectations for us are clear. To love, not to judge, to live on fire for Him, to forgive, to reach His potential that He has set for each of us.

And this has been kind of an awakening to me. Because I am finding that if you are not fine tuned in the rhythm of perspective, you will find yourself rapping to the beat of "I'm better than you." Because you never know when you may be looking sideways at something when someone else has the full frontal view. Profile views offer us with many hardships. They can be skewed. They can hurt. They ache. They can even leave you questioning the intentions of others. Angles are sharp, aren't they?

I guess where the rhythm misses is when a person doesn't have the love of God and the desire for Him truly resting in their hearts. Because even when you do, it's sometimes hard to keep up with the beat. More and more, my daily prayers are to keep in rhythm with God's desires for me. To keep humble in His grace and continue to seek the perspectives of all just as He does. And finally that He place this same needle on the record of every one's heart through His love.
Being open minded doesn't mean that you agree with the perspectives of all. But it does mean that you punch your dance card of compassion and step into their shoes for a dance or two. It brings a whole new hope to your heart, I do believe.
Whether it be the unrequited love from someone dear, the couple trying to desperately to have a baby yet with no luck, the mama grieving the loss of a little one, the family member who just doesn't fit, the church member who thinks they're always right, the one who lets you down, the grandfather who is never pleased, the hurt, the helpless, the homeless. Me and Perspective through God's grace and humility can look in with illustrious eyes and find our place and peace for each.
And we can do so because He made us each with different intentions. His grand plan is to feed our hearts and dance cards full. To teach us and to remind us that we are all here to give Him our all and show that all to others each and every time we can. His dance steps are hard to learn at times, but well worth the try.

Illustriously I am reminded in this unfair world that I have a choice. That at times I will fail. But that I can always slide my heels back on, straighten my skirt, and hold out my arms as He takes mine in His to find our rhythm once again. Me and Perspective.

.mac :)

p.s. A special thank you to k.Mac's most recent Flapper Girl designs for visual post enhancement.

Friday, July 24, 2009


She and I don't get along.
I avoid her.
The girl whispering nasty hush-hushes about you.
The one that thinks you do not see.
That's her.

I pick her last.
The lazy kid with 2 left feet.
Squinting at you for kickball choosing teams.

She finds me unexpectedly.
When I am tired.
Her fingers stroke my lashes.

I like your cousin better.
To me, she's always had better hair.

Your name never quick off my tongue.
I take.
Then rearrange only to take some more.


But Anger?
Considered awefully inopportune by most.
And socially illegitimate by many.
Sometimes it feels good to meet you face to face.

A spade a spade.

Good hair really is overrated.

Thursday, July 23, 2009


{in a decorative sense}

Okay. I am a sucker for a good deal. Like it brings me such joy to find something ridiculously cheap particularly if it is a good quality item.

Hit remind.
Setting: Yesterday. Hobby Lobby

The boys and I stroll up to the last side of the store just for eye candy purposes and to get a final glimpse at all the new Christmas ornaments as they had just finished stocking the shelves.

{I have a thing for a certain genre of Christmas ornament that I need every year in a quantity of 8 for a certain set of near and dear ladies in my life. Last year, I failed. I waited too late trying to catch the best deal, and only ended up with 4.} That won't happen this year.

On with the story at hand though.

I have trained Eli to watch for red sale signs.

Eli: "Mom! Look! A sale sign that says 9-0 on it! Is that good?"

Me: "Oh, yes sweet boy. That is really good."

90% off, that's right.

That only happens about 2 times a year at the good ole HL. Trust me, I know. I'm a frequent flyer.

Me: "Boys. Sit down right there on that shelf. (it was a low the floor and empty, worry warts) Here's your juice and snack. Don't move. Let mama look at what we got here."

2 older ladies {they remind me of The Golden Girls only they had those crazy print low nose wearing reading glasses with the connector bead chain}: "Honey, lookie what we found us here! Can you believe the steals on this shelf? Tell us, what you gonna get?"

{their baskets full to the brim with treasures.}

Background noise:
Eli and Casey crunching and sucking down juice while smacking their feet on the floor to make drumming noises

Me: "Well, well, ladies. I just don't know. I'm kinda on the practical side of life with decor in my home. I hate that those words even left my lips, sisters, but it is true. With a 2 and 4 year old and a limited budget, I'm kinda at a stand still with home purchases."

Golden Girls: GASP! "Honey child, we can't let that happen! Not with deals like these! Now pick you out a few. Go on. {coaxing me with back pats and all}

Eli and Casey: "Mom!!! When are we going????"

Me: {Casting evil death looks at both of them.} "Boys, wait patiently. I will be done in a minute!"

I flip the treasures over only to see the lowest ORIGINAL price item to read $19.99 and the highest ORIGINAL price item to read $34.99.

My mind scrambles. Drumming feet. Back patting. Internally, I'm crashing.

Me: "Ladies, I tell you what. I just don't know exactly what I would do with these. I mean I am just so far removed from frilly extras for my home."

1st Golden Girl: {pulling me aside with arm around my neck} "Sweetheart, these treasures here are dust collectors. The provide no purpose or function other than to look unique, eccentric, and pretty in your home."

2nd Golden Girl: "And honey, we are women. This is what we do. We collect things so we can dust them and then bitch about the housework we have to do to our husbands. It's our way, honey child."

1st Golden Girl: "Now, pick you out some, dear. This is a steal, I tell you. Don't let someone else snatch these out from under you!" {and then they both stroll on pushing their overflowing baskets and chitter-chirping amongst themselves."

Eli and Casey: "Mama!!!!! We're ready to go!!!!"

Me: Totally baffled. Mind blown. Flustered. "Okay, boys. Let's go."
I grab a handful of what looks good to me, shove them in my cart, and then revert to what feels most practical and natural to me in hopes to soothe my deal laiden mind...

I go straight for the ornaments I need. I count out 8. I then go and hide them in an inconspicuous spot in the store in hopes they will still be there when 30%-50% off ornament time comes.

Yes, I did that.

Then I went to the checkout counter and purchased the 90% off treasures. Still stumped as to what in the heck I am going to do with them.

Go ahead. Scorn me. I deserve it.

I caved under pressure. I bought these deals for deals sake, lost my mojo about it all, and then went into straight ornament survival-preservation mode in hopes of guaranteeing my discounted price and quantity assurance.

I left the store in a whirl of "What in the heck just happened?"

Me: {in my head rapidly thinking} I bought ornamental stumps and have no clue what to do with them, but dang, I got them for cheap. The most I paid for one of those treasures was $3.00. I hid Christmas ornaments. Omigosh, omisgosh, omigosh.

So, consider this post a confession of sorts. Not that I am Catholic, but I do feel better.

Do I need to return the stumps? Dunno. What would you do with these things? Seriously, just stick them on mantles, chests? Can I give them as gifts?

Do I need to go back and "unhide" the 8 count of ornaments? I know the answer to that, but tell me, would you want to come up 4 short again this year? I know, I know. You would just pay full price for them and get the 8 now. Or would you?

Dealing and stealing (sorta, huh?}

.mac :)

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

sEeInG dOuBlE

I delight in my design work on custom diaper bags. I love the antcipation of a little one's arrival and the curiosity of what she may look like or what personality strikes her fancy. I love helping clients select just the right fabrics for their little Miss.Be it a little mister, well, that's my expertise, I like to think. I love to share infancy stories of Eli and Casey all the while helping my client find the most clever of fabrics to fit the little tike nesting on the inside. I pride myself in keeping a wide selection of collections for boys in stock as I know the road is rough when it comes to variety with little guys.
But what to do when there are two?
No prob. k.Mac's got it covered. This Hipster was designed for twins, Andrew and Abigail. Their dad a HUGE Atlanta Braves fan and their mom ecstatic over pink and green.
With a total a 12 pockets and the cutest of k.Mac design, this client's wishes were granted.
2 sweet little ones in tow.
1 one-of-a-kind custom diaper bag.
k.Mac's "got a handle on it."

.mac :)

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Ten To Tote.

Ten things to tote, huh?

Yeah, tote.

You know, carry around, keep track of, remember, hold close in a safe place?

Tote this, Meg:

1. Sometimes you think too much. Perhaps take a moment every now and then to shut your brain up and just be. Overthinking tends to make you a little loopy from time to time.

2. Not every day ends with a cherry on top. Remember how you used to think every sentence should end with an {!}. Then in 10th grade English, Mrs. Myers told you that just wasn't so. She meant it. Periods {.} are okay. They actually mean to pause and rest. Question marks {?} are too. They keep us growing and learning. Just don't go into loopty-lou mode with the ole crooked mark. {reminder: see #1}

3. Boys are different than girls. Women are different than men. What you think and what they feel sometimes isn't even remotely the same. Same goes for what you feel and what they say.

4. Get out more. With the boys, without the boys, with Kenny, without Kenny. Just get out more, dang-it. You feel better when you do.

5. Keep finding inspiration in your everyday. Believe in the ideas and dreams you have. Others may find them lofty, but others don't dream them, now do they? You can do it, you can do it, Cinderellie, Cinderellie. {Phil. 4:13}

6. Sorry gets old when you say it all time. Matter of fact, you can actually wear that word out. Say when you need to ONLY, then say it once with the heartfelt remorse you have and move on.

7. Be more compassionate. Remember what it feels like to have a cold, be scared, try something new, or feel alone.

8. Keep up the great work on running. You really like getting to do that for yourself. Don't let that slip away.9. Your boys watch you. They watch everything about you. Whether you realize it or not, they do. Make it count.

10. Shave your legs more often. I think that could be a nice treat for yourself. Cause prickly legs all the time just ain't no count. {As your rubbing them together right now typing this to judge just how prickly they are.}

There they are. Ten to tote. Not to mention, some of our more recent k.Mac totes for visual post enhancement. Each one a custom design and personalized order much like the list of the 10 I just made.

So, what about you?

What would be your 10 to tote right now?

Perhaps a k.Mac tote could help you lug them around in style!
{the above was the 1st {!} technincally used in this entire post.}
{Take that, self.}

.mac :)

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