K.MAC Creations

{key ingredient}

2012-02-02T01:10:00.001-05:00

Did you know that one of the key ingredients to a longer life is friendship?

No, seriously, it is. Read here.

Feeling like you have someone to turn to is an element not to leave out of your recipe of life.

And, that's hard, you know?

Hard not to leave out.

I mean, you've got your job, your husband, ~~your Pinterest obsession~~, your kids, your church activities, your pets, your to-dos, ~~your time wasted on Facebook~~, your immediate family, and last but oh-no not least, your groceries to get and the overall general maintenance to uphold in that abode of yours.

And, we can't leave out that teeny little detail called proximity, now can we?

Yep, putting on the proverbial big girl panties is no fun at times.

{I type this now with both of my boys sick with ear infections and a sink full of dirty dishes. It's 12:30 in the AM and jimmy cracked corn & I don't care.}

But if you're lucky.
If you're just lucky enough.
There will be an empty little spot inside your soul that just won't settle until it's soothed.

You know the spot. The one that sets up camp with a scoreboard of how many times you can actually pee your britches and spit drink out your nose all while crying at the same time uncontrollably from being surrounded by dear, sweet friends that just get you. For you.

That's the one.

And, lawzy day in the morning, when that spot fills up inside of me, I am almost certain I can move mountains.

The girls in the photos above are precious to me.

And, it's not often enough we are able to share a time like the one displayed above.

I have so very many precious friends that I want to have in my life more often.
I wish every month had like 6 weekends in it, don't you?

The presence of a friend is an ingredient I'm making for certain not to leave out.
May we live to be 101, girls-o-mine.

.mac :)

{differently noted}

2012-02-01T12:36:00.000-05:00

Eli, you take such pride in ownership. I see you stretching out more and more into what makes an E-L-I.

Your independence has always been a priority. From wee tiny, you have relished best in justyou. I love that in the little snippets of our days together I find you building, managing and fixing trinkets near & dear to your heart.

You are a collector of the doings; a keeper of dreams in tact.

You room finds order in time. Scattered often meets stacked. You are a trophy keeper. A lover of keeping your checked-off on display.

Magic Tree House books read.

Magazines noted.

Bible stories too.

Casey, you are my Ewok.

You like it best when you are by my side. In the midst of my sewing, cleaning and cooking I find you underfoot with colors in hand. You want my touch and my words like breathes.

Your arrival in this world, if only meant for cuddling, would suit you just fine.
Your proximity to people will serve you well, son.

Boys, my life as your mama is like a square dance.
And, don't you know, I love to do-si-do just as much as I love to circle left?

Differently: noted

Mama :)

{act}

2012-01-31T16:46:00.005-05:00

I have a love for style and art. The southpaw in me says it's so. I've always loved colors and shades and movement. Oh, how I love movement. Texture, fine lines and the theatrical story are just some of the concepts behind creating that entices me so.

I love people, connections and learning too.

The human electricity we call relationships is so magnificently 100 watt to me.

So creatively & uniquely in this year of twenty-twelve, I wanted to story my journey of being a better me by melodically using a mixed bag of my favorites:

style {see Cheap Thrills}

words

personal photographs

connections

details

{Kinda like the 5 bean medley soup we are having for dinner tonight simmering in the crock pot right now.}

And, I want to take time to celebrate and share on the last day of every month.

my word

my mission

my status

my memories

It is my hope that this end-of-the month progress report is obtuse with growth.

I promise to be truthful even if I suck it up at success.

You have my word.

In the world of blogging ~~and for the 7 people who read this bad boy~~, it seems anything is worth chronicling.

So chronicling, I will commence on this 31st day of January.

Allow me a warm-up exercise with the ensemble photographed above.

Ensemble Statistics:

shoes-

Target clearance for $6.96 circa 2010
They are the coolest pink/purple color. I call them Puce inspired by this movie I adored when I was a little girl. Anyone else remember the color of the candy canes?
They have real grosgrain bows with silver tassels on the end.
The style name for the shoe on the tag was "Meghan" Destiny, I tell you.
They are totally patent leather pleather and that is freaktastic fun if you ask me.

jeans-

bought last weekend at 50% off Goodwill in my little East Tennessee town.
paid $1.50 for them
They are the perfect shade of charcoal grey denim.
They have little black studded rhinestones scattered about.
AND, they have black lace appliques too. EEK!
Casey's response when he first saw me in them, "Mama, it looks like your underwear is sewn to the outside." Nice. Kenny would be proud.

shirt-

Goodwill
$1.00
perfect length for layering and covering the tush
great neckline for necklaces or to give that barely there skin vibe
would be super for cleavage, but I don't have any
tiny tuxedo buttons with the elongated cuff look
black-n-white stripes

jacket-

It's that weird length that you're always guessing about. You know, like, is this length in style still or not?
I opted to go for it anyway.
Goodwill.
Merona brand
$1.29 paid
I feel all Michael Jacksony in it as it has the gold metallic zipper action goings-on and some ad hoc pockets too.
cUhRaZy about the mustard color.

scarf-

$5.00
Big Lots
a flat silvery shade
flimsy
I kinda tend to choke myself with over wrapping if I'm not careful.
I have a small and quite long neck, hence the above observation.

sunglasses-

$4.00
bought at a killer cool boutique of all things AWESOME in my new-to-me little town, The Steamer Trunk. The house is painted a mint chocolate chip shade on acid. Love it. The owner is so cool. She is all trendy & classy and so witty too. Real down to Earth, which I love.

earrings-

They straight up look like they are heirlooms inherited from my great, great grandmother.
Antiquey diamonds surrounding a black onyx riveted center stone set in an oxidized ole world silver
paid $7.00 for them
The Steamer Trunk, yep.
There is a room in this boutique, I KID YOU NOT, that is floor to ceiling jewelry.

hair-

brought to you by Dove.
washed 2 days ago and slept on
bangs are pulled back as I am due for a haircut and I can't stand them in my eyes all skateboardy like.

TOTAL financial investment in outfit: $26.79

Chronicling can't stop there as my fingers have just primed themselves for the most important. So for you readers ready for the real meat of this post, I will gladly serve you now.

January 2012

My word:

My personal word of growth for the month of January was {act}.

My mission:

I wanted to dissolve all anxieties of I can'ts and I don't have times.

try new designs.
make time for my personal reading (1 book a month)
reach ones I love far away (cards, calls, presents in the mail)

I wanted to see a need and fill it.

be there when someone needs you (by phone or by physical presence)
remind someone that you are thinking of them in a special way

I wanted to take a chance and push myself in something I love to do.

write more on this blog
advertise my designs more
do a Bible study with my mother-in-law and sister-in-law

I wanted to push myself in patience.

listen to the boys stories and dive into the details asking them questions.
speak less negatively to the things that irritate you
snuggling more with my boys when I want to jump up and get something else done

I wanted to really put myself in someone else's shoes.

I wanted to listen and REALLY hear their heart song. I wanted to envision myself in their place with their hurts and happys too. I wanted to remind them of the hope they have within His plan.

I wanted to magnify my presence in my home.

get the laundry done and put away, damnit.
plan and carry out dinners consistently
organize
get rid of the things you don't need.

My status:

* * * *

4 out of 5 stars

I have not finished my personal reading book for the month. {Don't think for one second that I haven't considered pulling an all night reading marathon tonight just to check this off my January list. It's the overachiever in me. But, alas, I have sewing to do, so the book will move on into February.}

My memories:

I have a glorious feeling inside me looking back on January 2012. A sense of accomplishment resonates my being. I can be better than my yesterdays. I can grow with the love I have for myself and the love I have for others. I can find peace in what God prepares for my soul's next mission even if it is in my ordinary everydays. I can smile at the woman God wants me to be.

Ready for February,

.mac :)

p.s A special thank you to my lead photographer, Eli Cobble.

2 hearts.

2012-01-30T09:05:00.001-05:00

The role of mother is quite different from the role of the aunt.

Aunt Meghan can worry less about the rights-n-wrongs and focus more on the spoilings-n-sillys of adoring. And, I've got a new niece on the way. Remember my excitement here and here?

Miss Mallory Alaine Casey will be here soon! You can only imagine my excitement when I made these matching outfits for next year's Valentine's Day for the sisters.

It's like yesterday I can remember Mollye joining us in this world. I am reminded of my unbridled anticipation and my intense love for her the moment my eyes met her face.

Now, it's so hard to believe that these are the size clothes I make for Mollye Addison!

I cannot tell you the amount of fun I had with constructing this ribbon looped initial heart. The picture really does not do justice to the shirt's cute factor. It's all bubbly and fluffy and 3D. I make it a point with handmade items to encourage a client to order a size up in tees. I do this only so that the client will be able to potentially get 2 years use out of a custom order. This shirt is a 4/5.

Now to these SUPER DUPER DREAMY pants! Oh, how I heart these! Mollye looks so adorable in the large ruffle look. I love the double ruffle heart-dot combo. I'm even kinda drooling as I stare at these now. And, for a one louder for practicality's sake, I have enough extra fabric in the waistline so that next year all I will have to do is unstitch the band, remeasure Mollye's height and re-install the elastic so that she will be set for one more Valentine's only this time with her little sister!

I opted to showcase k.Mac's newest Hair Happies in Mollye's platinum locks. These are called Florets. They are not yet on the website, but I am thinking they are gonna be a popular addition. These come in your choice of clasp. {aligator with no teeth, alligator with tiny teeth or lobster clasp} Coordinating fabric mixed with ribbon sprouts...um, that's a party I wanna go to!

And, may I officially introduce to you the very first outfit I have made for my new niece, Mallory Alaine! Kim opted for a jumper as Mallory will be about 8-9 months next Valentine's Day. At that age, easy diaper access is key. I can just see her now with some black leggings and platinum peach fuzz with her Nanny T's blue eyes! EEK! I cannot wait!

Along with the double heart-dot ruffle, I wanted to capitalize on the crisp, clean white hue of Mollye's shirt in Mallory's jumper. I opted to use a dainty tea cup pocket with her monogram trimmed in the same ribbon used in Mollye's shirt. I enjoy the whimsy-ness this pocket has to offer the overall jumper aesthetically.

And, there you have it. My one heart is FULL of the 2 MAC hearts God has entrusted to me as their Aunt Meghan. I have no doubt I will aDoRe every second of loving on these girlies.

How fitting that my first big sister/little sister ensemble is for Valentine's Day.

.mac :)

p.s. These designs have premiered already on my Facebook page. For those blog readers who want just one more avenue of k.Mac goodness, I would be honored to have you!

Riptide

2012-01-27T10:19:00.002-05:00

{taken at Mollye's 3rd birthday party: July 24, 2011}

I am a derivative of industrious souls.

Human hands hard at work; inventive minds methodical in making.

I come from the creative.

And, like breathing, this is my way of life.

There are many times I find myself mindstobbling {yes, I just made this word up} through my life's routines and neglecting my creative heritage. I take for granted the heart I have for giving life to fresh ideas; in being the dreamer and the do-er.

I discredit my ignorance for potential failure and my hope in it just might work.

Then man in the photograph above is my grandfather, Harry Grady Cook.

He is my Dad-Daddy. I've honored him by writing about here once before.

He is the forefather to my creative rhythm.

And, with 2012 being my year of rhythm, I wanted to settle in on my grandfather for just a bit.

My grandfather went to Henry Ford Trade School in Detroit, Michigan. I adore looking at the pictures of him from this time in his life. Everything back then seemed so crisp and dapper. Skinny ties are so handsome if you ask me. He recounts the rules at the school were strict as were the levels for achievement. My grandfather went on academic scholarship as his family had not the money to send him.

After graduation, he received a job working for NASA as a test engineer. Basically, NASA asked him to create specific inventions for projects they were involved in. Having the privilege to listen to my Dad-Daddy tell of the inventions he created and perfected as well as seeing the photographs from this time in his life has been such a joy.

The time and labor put into these ideas is unbelievable. It resonates with me now even more as I am firsthand witness to the time bandit otherwise known as the creative.

Later, my Dad-Daddy left NASA and with just $1,000 cash started his own business with my grandmother. Custom Sound Record Shop, a music store, was a success from which he and my Mom-Mommie retired after almost 30 years.

In the beginning stages of starting his music shop, he also built the house that he still lives in to this day. He built this house ALL BY HIMSELF. I kid you not. The only person who helped him was my dad. It took him over 2 years, but every single brick, stone, floor, sheetrock and board was constructed and assembled by my grandfather.

He is a worker.

He is a tenacious soul for knowledge.

He is an artist and master of so many trades.

He hand carved a set of wooden monogrammed initial pins for my mom, my aunt, my grandmother and me. He cross stitched a "HOME SWEET HOME" framed embroidery that hangs in his home this very moment.

He taught me what it means to love to dance.

{taken at my wedding: June 8, 2002}

As a little girl I adored stepping atop his house slippers as he would glide me across the floor. He taught me how to let a man lead and when to listen to his hand in the small of your back.

riptide

noun

an intermittent strong surface current flowing seaward from the shore

And, I honor and thank him for this precious, precious gift.

To be a dreamer industrious, artful, passionate and in pursuit is such beautiful genetic composition to inherit.

Thank you, Dad-Daddy.

For my ignorance of potential failure and my hope in it just might work.

You are my riptide of rhythm.

Love you,

.mac :)

My World

2012-01-26T00:39:00.000-05:00

Your world works inside of mine.
Or, is it mine inside of yours?

While mine keeps records, crosses off to-dos and timelines tasks, yours creates.

Story lines.

Developing characters.

Strategies for survival.

More & more I find that I'm the lucky one to inhabit your planet.

A few treads down a wooden hallway leaves me quite certain of my place.
It is here an older, well versed in pretend, reigns.

His plots perfectly planned; his battle moves, flawless.
Attention to detail is mandatory.
Interchanging chapters devoured by curious eyes with armageddon in the final demise of the dark force, you rule.

How rude of me to interrupt your schedules so massively laden with destruction and the reinstatement of disciplines good only to put laundry away.

My world's at peace just knowing it's safe and secure inside of yours.

Keep creating, boys.

Mama :)

Funktastic

2012-01-25T10:35:00.002-05:00

Picked up these bad daddys at my neighboring town's Goodwill a few weeks ago. Brought them home and did the whole 5 hour soak in color detergent with bleach & hot water. Then washed them 3 times.

Paid $1.00 for these girlies.

Wanna know how much they retail for? Click here all you curious cats.

I call this find funktastic.

I've worn them several times already. And, I just gotta tell you. There is spunk in my stride when these mamas team up with my size 8 socks.

Magic happens.

I wanna call these my superhero shoes, but the boys won't let me. They say they aren't magic enough to be superhero shoes.

Hmmph.

Have they ever had them on their feet?

I think not.

So, these are MY superhero shoes. The second they are laced it's like I'm whisked back in time to my days of my Wonder Woman Underoos. Go on, holla if you had some.

There's something about bubble gum pink & the word ALL*STAR that all ladies need in their lives.

{Yes, that dirt on the heel there if from me. I love'em I tell you.}

And, perhaps even men need a little funktastic in their lives too, no?

Guess whose wife packed him an overnight bag without him knowing and surprised him by sending him off with his best friend for whirlwind trip to pay respects to this football legend and to go see the The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier?

Coach Kenny Cobble's wife did.

Because we all need a little funktastic in our lives.

It inspires us.
It refreshes us.
It helps us stretch out and grow.

Now would you look at what $1.00 and a dose of spontaneity will get you?

Find your funktastic,
.mac :)

{beauty pontificated}

2012-01-23T11:13:00.000-05:00

WE
collective breaths measured
blistered particles of now
damaged by our necessities
clouded by our ridiculous comparisons
WE
perfect the art of masking imperfections
stare at labels and covet them more
suck in & cover up
our race to the top is foot traffic over others

I write this in medley format. And, I fear I may have stumbled upon another session of the paragraph. And, I so promised not to make a habit of that here. But alas, the tightness in my chest, moreover my spirit, engages me to visually formulate these words in a wall of protection from those choosing to read and even more so from the notion that I am choosing to speak them.

Humans have goodness. I seek it out all the time. I yearn to find the tiny hope or the smidgeon of a smile in people. I even look for it in myself. Yet, in a world filled with evil deeds, one-upping and slanderous talk, I am taken back. Whisked back to my junior high years when fitting in was imperative for success. And, simply put, I was a failure. I ate in the cafeteria when all the girls that were the definition of cool did not. I didn't wear a bra until 9th grade (as there truly was no need). You can imagine the ridicule received from this during change times in the locker room after basketball practice. I was always one step behind the synthetic leather, tiny square triangle, excessively long single strap carrying Liz Claiborne handbag girls in my class. When the caramel colored leather jacket was the one, I wore the sand colored.

And, girls can hurt with words. Boys too for that matter. It makes me wonder who might have been my victim of ridicule as some form of therapeutic way of making someone feel they way I did. For those individuals out there, I want to apologize. My apologies cannot compensate for the hurt caused, I know. But my cognizance of the damage I might have inflicted hopefully will be something worth recognizing.

I linger on the sidelines of the world and all it has to offer my boys. Each Saturday, they play in their community basketball league games. I watch Eli and Casey interact and become a part of a larger collective. I peek in at their ignitions of friendships and their afterthoughts on interactions with these new people their size in their lives. It is interesting to note the stark difference in environments between the 2 boys' age brackets. Casey's game is directional yet light hearted. It is full of energy and collective excitement when the ball goes through the hoop. There are high fives and helping outs too. Eli is the next bracket up. Shoulders are more puffed out to establish presence, socks have to be cool. Shoes too. Emulations of SWAG are on the scene. After a bucket, there is less elation and more jaws pulsing and eyes squinting. The heavy blanket of competition and keeping up has covered this age group. And the parents too. Many are hot-n-heavy and hard pressed as secret coaches from the sidelines across from the game bench. There is discontent when their child falls short. Not all parents, but some.

And there I sit. Watching as my children find their way in & amongst this measuring up. I see their innocence and so longingly want to preserve it. Yet, I know that this measuring stick is inevitable to shield them from.

Competition is a sword in which we all live and die by.

I want to teach giving your all; I want to exalt excellence; I want to preach practicing and finding your strengths; I want to praise respect for others.

And, I want to do this all where my boys get it. They get that we all have a goodness inside. That confidence in who you are and just exactly who God made you to be is enough. Enough to eat lunch in middle school if you want. Enough to not wear a bra and it be just okay. Even better to rise above the divisional lines of cool and see the hope and heart of everyone around you. Not just the plastic Liz Claiborne triangles. {No, boys, you will never wear a bra or carry a Liz Claiborne purse, but stick with mama here for the connection.}

WE
collective breaths measured
seek the good
sidle with insecurities
remind ourselves of the value of respect
WE
rise above the clouded
remind ourselves & others that you are cool enough
God's measuring stick is love.
Share it, boys.
Live in confidence and shine on for others to see.
There is beauty in us all.

I'm gonna do the same,
Mama

{p.s. A special thank you to the $5.00 bouquet in my kitchen that visually encouraged me to write this post.}

A Scuffed Reminder

2012-01-20T09:38:00.000-05:00

Picture it.
A steady spittering rain drizzle.
1 Saturday.
1 mama.
2 boys.
2 basketball games.
2 different tip-off times.
1 daddy with a football banquet right smack in the middle of tip offs.

Mama on cheerleader/team picture form filler-outer/taxi driver/wardrobe coordinator of 4 for banquet detail.

Kenny was completely tied up with all things banquet.

I owned this one.

Once Eli's game ended, we scooted back home for a brief 40 minute adjournment so Eli and I could change into our banquet attire.

{I must break out a fashion boast here:: holla if you hear me. I wore a killer khaki pant suit that also came with a matching pair of dress walking shorts all purchased for the total price of $1.00 from one of my new-to-me Goodwill establishments. That's right. A 3 piece set for $1.00. I paired that bad daddy with my favorite pair of red heels.}

We packed Casey's banquet clothes and were back on the hoop scene in no time.

And, it is here that I will choose not to go into irritable detail about the fact that the wait time for Casey's team/individual pictures ~~which we did not even opt to purchase~~ was an entire 60 minutes ~~while I stood next to a junior high boy's bathroom stationary in heels.~~ Eli was a rockstar and totally patient. He's my guy.

Ahem.

But, the Face eventually played and was victorious and all things elated too.

Now, time to get to that banquet.
No biggie, we are only an hour late.

Out the double doors we go Casey-Mama-Eli hand-in-hand.

I am carrying the camera bag, my purse, and the bag that housed Casey's change of clothes for the banquet.

Rocking the hyper-drive heel-toe step, the boys and I are making our way to the car.

A cascade of cobblestone stairs is on our route.

Hurriedly and with all 3 of us talking in a collective unison about the games {they are so like me in the talking department; it's not even funny}, we begin our descent.

About the 7th step of the dozen before us, my heel catches in between the crack of one of the cobblestones.

I do this whole mental I got this and began the succession of correctional methods.

The heel was stuck.
Like for realz.
My hands are occupied with Tom-n-Jerry on either side of me.
My shoulders are obese with cargo.
It's flippin' raining.
And, the boys don't have a clue this is happening.

{the above came to fruition in about .5 seconds.}

As if it were April 15th 1912, this mama begins her rattle-trapped rendition of decline.

Boys still walking feverishly forward, I am faced with the immediate issue of immobility.

{now, we are at about 1 second lapsed time}

Panicked, I attempt a lean down drop on Eli's shoulder with my elbow. He supports me yet has no clue what seems to be the trouble. {That's so Eli through & through.} Yet, he's still in forward motion so it became an unfortunate choice for a solution.

So, I'm now cock-eyed and stuck and we are at about the 2 second mark.

Freaking COMPLETELY out now, I am wobbling, upper-body-protruding-over-lower-extremities and heading south bound at lightning speed.

SO I DROP.

I chose to let it happen.

At the 2.5 second mark, I realized correcting wasn't in the cards.

I fall 5 steep steps and, in Twister fashion with 5'9"+ heels on my stat sheet, I crash with the butts of my hands on the 12th step, my knees on steps 10 & 11 respectively and my feet STILL in heels on step 7.

And, I was a perty sight to see.

My heart racing and my entire body in a full-on shake, my brain connects with the reality:

YOU JUST ~~FAILED~~ FELL.

And, little did I know that this incident would serve as a reminder for me in the coming week.

Sometimes you have to "choose to let it happen"

Meghan, you didn't fail.
You fell.

And, you can always get back up.

My rhythm meets my humanity.

.mac

p.s. And, don't think for one hot second I'm not taking a red Sharpie to that scuff mark and moving right along in my reddy reds!

mindful

2012-01-19T08:36:00.000-05:00

race, race, race,

finish, finish, finish,

DO, DO, DO

laundry [and put it away, damnit}
clean toilets
reading with Eli
math with Casey
lunch
the blasted dishwasher {hurry, quick and see how fast you can get it emptied}
computer time with boys
email the client back
get the fabric samples ready first
call about the repair man
What time is his practice again?
jOuRnAl time
be positive & have patience
I need to hang those curtains.
Ooh, those cats are scattering litter AGAIN.
reading with Casey
Eli, stop grabbing Casey's face.
The landscape quote is ridiculously too much.
Make next round of candles.
When was the last time I vacuumed?
RUN.
painting with boys
What are we gonna eat for dinner?
Quarterly taxes are due tomorrow
finish pillow design
send out orders
I think I'm out of packing tape.
That garage needs to be organized like yesterday.
I can't remember the last time I washed my hair.
Make the note she wants her monogram font changed on her order.
We're outta milk.

May I be mindful.
The run-n-gun checklist locked & loaded inside of me is not meant for firing.
It's the ammunition inside of it that counts.
That potential energy encapsulated.
May I use it for good.
My day.
My attitude.
My choice.

.mac :)

Looking Back

2012-01-18T00:58:00.000-05:00

I often wonder what they'll look back on and remember?
And, what I'll remember too.

When the 2 beside me make their way.

tall

with voices deep

and shaving cream kits

Will they remember the cakes and cookies we used to bake?
The so many snuggles we shared as we read our way through fantastical books?
And, I don't think they'll forget the times we went swimming and on adventure walks, do you?

As for me, I won't.

I'll remember.

Eli, your amazing drive to play and your passion for trains, then states & capitals, the Titanic, and the Civil War are etched in my memory book for certain.

And your "lasterday" and "missed it" and "Eli's light" too.
Turning the pages in a book at just 3 months old.

I won't forget.

Mr. Casey Face, your curiosity, magnificent memory and adoration for sports has been logged in my record books with permanent ink.

Your "on wildcat" times as an infant and your complete & absolute love of mama.
Your imagination and story telling too.

I won't forget.

I'll remember.

But you two?
What will you remember?

If not the cakes or the swimming, the tickle fights with Daddy and the kitchen dancing with mama, remember this:

-THE LOVE-

Because that's the best part,

Mama

Tasting the Rainbow

2012-01-17T01:15:00.002-05:00

When I eat Skittles I always get hyped up.

My mother-in-law would say I'm "like a rat on acid".

Skittles do this to me.

I hate the orange ones.

I'm eating them now as I type.
Not the orange ones, of course.
I just make an orange pile and give them to the boys.
Aren't I the sweetest mom?

I've just ripped the top off of my 5th mini-pack and there's no turning back people.

I could choose now to share with you a story of how Heather, my best friend in junior high, and I can make a complete set of false fingernails with a package of Skittles. This was our sleepover ritual.

But, I won't go into detail as rat-like as I am typing this post, we would never get to the fun of what I'm here to share with you.

I AM GOING TO BE AN AUNT AGAIN!

I know I've already told you all about this here.

BUT, I CAN'T WAIT!

I think it's one of the things I love most about designing. I am able to share my God given talent with the ones I love so very much.

And, it's time to get the ball rolling for my niece's diaper bag!

I thought it would be fun to post this bag design process and make it a bit interactive so that you are able to see just how a design session works.

1st

I always see what I can learn about my client.
I ask them questions and find out about their personality.
I ask about their favorite colors.
I ask what necessities are required for their bag design.

Kim, my niece-to-be's mama:

She is very organized and timely.
She knows what she likes when she sees it.
She is sentimental and loves traditions.
She is patient.
For colors, she loves blues and pinks.
She decorates with khaki and earth tones in her home.
For a bag necessity, she enjoys several compartments for storage.
She definitely would like a name embroidery.

2nd

I ask specifically what types of fabric hues and color schemes a client would like to see.

Kim, my niece-to-be's mama:

"I don't know. I don't want the bag to look like pink and purple GIRL everywhere. I like softer colors, but I want to do something different and maybe brighter than the nursery colors. I am more into pinks than purples."

3rd

After taking all of this information into account, I send fabric collections to the client to peruse and see what speaks to them if you will.

Below are the collections I have for Kim. She's my niece-to-be's mama if you didn't know that already.

And, this is where I want you to be all cyber-spacey & interactive and VOTE! The votes are anonymous and take nothing more than a click of your mouse. So, which of the fabric collections above do you like most?

Vote here:

And, since you did such a superfly job on that click-n-vote, I need one more from you and I promise I won't ever eat Skittles and blog at the same time.

You see, I asked for a little bag help here in this post just last week, and well, readers' mouses must've been on strike. I only received 7 votes on which bag Kim should carry. I had 124 visits by readers on that specific post. In the words of my step father-in-law, Larry, "that don't add up".

So, I thought I'd try once more only this time I would add visuals aids {cause who doesn't love a good visual aid?} and informational links to help you out with your decision making.

Like before, I am only showcasing k.Mac's top 5 diaper bag designs based solely on past purchased quantities and then I am including the newest Antebellum design.

First up, the Antebellum. It is k.Mac's newest diaper bag and does not even have a place on my website yet. Go here to read all about the details for more information.

Next up is the Miss Merry Mac Pack. Go here to read all about it.

Then we have our ever famous Classic Tote. Go here for information.

Then there's k.Mac's sweet Ruby. Here is where you can read all about it.

And, the Regency! Here's where to go to read all about her bells & whistles.

Last, but not least, is k.Mac's Hipster. Details here.

Now let's do this vote thing one more time for good measure, shall we? You're visually full and your informationally equipped:

How fun was that? You virtually designed, bought a k.Mac bag AND didn't pay a thing!

Thanks for the votes. I'll do an update post to let you know the results as well as what bag and fabric collection Kim, my niece-to-be's mama, selects.

~~Overdosing on~~ Tasting the rainbow,

.mac :)

Quite Certain

2012-01-15T14:36:00.000-05:00

Green-wich Village maybe in the top 5 of my all time favorite nail colors by OPI.

It has the strangest yet smoothest funky vibe to me. I tell you, I just can't stop staring at my fingernails every time I wear it.

And in true Meghan fashion, I rock it like it's the hottest most popular red you have ever seen.

Funked out and ready for a fresh week,
.mac :)

full

2012-01-13T02:47:00.001-05:00

"The power of the resurrection means that nothing but the tomb is meant to be empty."

Beth Moore

I don't usually like to write in paragraphs. For some reason breaks between sentences fit me best. If I'm really honest here, poetry fits me best. But tonight I have this huddle-in-tight together conviction about my words. So forgive me if this writing is but one long paragraphed procession. I promise not to make habit of it.

Have you ever tried to explain love? Like, really explain it to a child? It is the trickiest of definitions to verbally formulate. I've had many failed attempts at a legitimate layman's term definition with just me and my pencil during quiet journal times.

But to know when it's there? Always. You can feel it. It's deep and certain. It's breathtaking and comforting and wholesome. And when my thoughts dwell on those in my life whom I love, feelings permeate my being and my senses awake. BAM. Memories, snapshots and stories rush through my mind sending signals of joy and tenderness to my soul. This spiritual center of my existence stirs breathing action into my extremities. My nerve endings loosen, my breathing intensifies, my face feels full, and my smile widens. These physical effects take place when I purposely focus on those in my life whom I dearly love.

But, then to be one lucky enough to be the recipient of love? What a precious gift. Upon reflecting on those in my life who love me, one word inevitably comes to mind: comfort. There is rest and even more so, peace, that derives from those in your life where the above paragraph is indicative of what they feel for YOU. Trust soon follows this feeling which creates a surrounding that magnifies strength and goodness.

Love is action. It is both the gift and the given. It is what people of all walks seek. It is the story of acceptance. By products of love are kindness, service, selflessness, joy and work. Never once when I think of those whom which I love and those whom I am truly loved by do I think of perfection or judgement.

When you love, your heart is saturated with the daily deposits and withdrawals of this most poignant & coveted emotion. And, inevitably you fail, flub up, find yourself overdrawn or unpaid. But love never leaves you. There's power in forgiveness and making things right.

Tonight thoughts of Kenny and the boys pulsate through me so much that even the keys I am typing feel electric. I think of the ways in which I love them. And, I think of the ways in which I receive their love. It is powerful and so tremendously irreplaceable. Not one minute do I want to live without it.

And, that's just exactly what God thinks about His love for me and mine for Him.

He is the action we call love. He is all that is felt and shared. He is trust. He is comfort. He is energy and expression too.

I am not empty. I have a God who loves me. He plans for me and considers just exactly who I am. He speaks to me. He praises me. He teaches me. He gives me hope. He provides me rest and inspiration too. I am not empty for He dwells within my soul.

It is in only here, in His love, that I will find my rhythm.

Thank you, God.

.mac :)

Rationing

2012-01-12T02:23:00.000-05:00

I don't know how they do it.
But, they do.

In & amongst Army outfits and light sabers, they ration goodness.

Casey: "Mom's pan makes a great spot to keep our new Twistables huh, Bub?"
Eli: "Yeah, we can just recycle the packages and keep them all in here so we can use them better."

-all in here-

-use them better-

And just like that, they redefine ration.

What was once a fixed amount to each boy grows.

Doubles

Erases boundary.

I observe taking short shallow breaths so as not to interfere or miss the teensiest bit of conversational work commencing between these two.

There is war.

Destruction erupts with fires and gunshots.

Crayola Twistables and a sketchbook says it's so.

My little lefty.

You find such joy in the details.

The camo Army hat

The black high top boots

The soldiers bending as they fall just short of victory into the raging fire.

A brigade is on attack just 2 feet across the kitchen table.
Tank men
catapults
machine guns
Teamwork defends freedom in a big brother's eye.

And, on this day, he needs no prompting.
Eli's pencil finds the paper with quickness asking for no assistance from mama.

It's as if some secret polka plays to the pencil's delight as she shimmies across the page.

It is in this moment; in this handful of our day together, boys, I am given my rations of joy.

Thank you,

Mama

A New Arrival

2012-01-11T10:30:00.000-05:00

There is so much joy in new.

The anticipation, the wait, the wondering, the planning & preparing are all like one big pep rally for the arrival of freshness in something never seen or experienced before.

A little client of mine, along with her mama and daddy, are completely engulfed with joy of the newness they experienced this past November.

Miss Cameron became a big sister.

And, well, she had to have one of k.Mac's Pretty Petite bags to help with all of the toting & doting that was to happen upon the arrival of her new little brother.

Meet Wesley and k.Mac's newest diaper bag design, The Antebellum.

The design session for this custom design order will forever hold a special place in my heart. It was the last appointment in my studio at our home before we moved.

And, these clients are so precious.

I love nothing more than being intricately involved and hands-on when it comes to a client's custom design. Both grandmothers of this client came along with the Cameron & Wesley's mama to help her design and select.

i.so.heart.this.

I was honored to make Cameron's diaper bag when she was born as well, so being asked to make Mr. Wesley's bag sent me over the moon.

And, the Antebellum is becoming so very popular for a choice in diaper bag designs. It has no official page on my website but just from my test prototype sample bag out & about in the public eye, I have made 4 of these diaper bags for clients.

Let me tell you a little about it.

It has a side grommeted design in your choice of bow or sash format. On each side, the bag comes equipped with 2 fabric pieced pockets.

I utilize silver round rings for the one-strap design for added texture and depth aesthetically.

Inside the bag, you will find 6 interior pockets for all of baby's must haves. Not only are these pockets pieced and sufficiently reinforced, but they also make a great space for a personal embroidery message just to mama and babe.

The Antebellum boasts a zipper closure for added security for baby's necessities.

And, how great is a full length back zippered pocket? This has been a feature clients speak so highly of with this new diaper bag design.

Peek-a-boo coordinating fabric corners are a detailed touch of couture within this design. Upon the creation and sketching of this design, I wanted this bag to have ample space for name boasting. I enjoy the way the grommeted sides edge out a polished look with coordinating silver hardware from the bag's silver o-rings.

This design session was so preciously fun. The grandmas were oozing with joy for the anticipation of Mr. Wesley. They showered their daughter/daughter-in-law with happy smiles and excitement as she worked to pick out just the right fabric collection and bag design. I loved that they opted to include Miss Cameron with a Mommy & Me matching Pretty Petite bag as well.

Miss Cameron and her mama were all set thanks to grandmothers' lovin. With handmade k.Mac cuteness over their shoulders, they were ready for their new arrival.

And wouldn't you know it?

NEW is in the air.

I'm going to be an aunt AGAIN!

My brother and sister-in-law Kim along with Miss Mollye are going to be a family of FOUR!

Don't you just adore their Halloween party costumes?

I CANNOT wait to make for Mollye's LITTLE SISTER and Mollye too! k.Mac's {mollyemade} is going to be an absolute blast this coming year I have no doubt.

I am honored to be making my sweet niece's nursery bedding. I cannot wait to share with you the fabric collection Kim has chosen for the sweetheart's room. This must be another post entirely.

And, well, we need your help!

What k.Mac diaper bag should Kim carry?

I am using k.Mac's top 4 diaper bag designs in this poll along with the newest Antebellum design. Go here to check out all of these diaper bags and more in greater detail.

I have no doubt that later on we will need your help on a fabric collection for this diaper bag too. There are SO MANY to choose from. Go here for a just a smidgeon of a peek at what Kim has at her fingertips.

Yes, new is good.

new designs

new nieces

new clients

and a new address

k.Mac is happy!

.mac :)

69 & $1.00

2012-01-09T09:40:00.002-05:00

I live in a new place.
This place is rural.
Like horses, cows, creeks and barns.
A LOT of barns.
On our way to my mother-in-law & father-in-law's house from ours, the boys and I decided to count the number of barns.
69
sixty-nine, I tell you.
And the drive is about 25 minutes.
wow.

I have never been a HUGE department store shopper.
But I love fashion and trend.
Mostly, I like wearing things that make me feel happy.
And, I love good deals.
I can only direct one here to learn more about my thrifting passion. The videos alone will speak volumes of the thrills I find in deal seeking.

And, these sweeties make me feel so very happy.

Do you realize how joyful my rainbow of legs feel in leggings, tights and skinny jeans just knowing that their pot of gold lies with my feet in these babies?

How much did this price tag of happiness cost?

$1.00

That's right.

These are Sam Edelman.

Retail on these bad boys is $169.99.

And they came from my one of my new Goodwill stomping grounds.

Rural area Goodwills are tricky.

You see, they have no high end stores {Banana Republic, Gap, Limited, L.L. Bean, Eddie Bauer, Ann Taylor} to draw from. Whereas, urban area Goodwill stores are chock full of those brands on a consistent basis.

And, the avid Goodwill hunter is adeptly aware of this.

Words cannot adequately express the grieving I have done losing my urban area Goodwill. BUT, I take hope in the tiny treasures I am finding in my little rural pockets of thrifting magic here.

69 barns and a pair of $1.00 Sam Edelman's, I am happy. Happy & hungry for the next Goodwill kill.

Licking my chops,

.mac :)

rhythm

2012-01-06T12:29:00.002-05:00

rhythm

This word conjures up so much goodness in me.

Just looking at it on the screen is peaceful. I love that aesthetically the "h" and "y" provide a cat-n-mouse peek-a-boo with your eyes. And that "m", well that symmetrical mistress, is eye candy for the centered soul.

Then I say it.

rhythm

To get the "r" out you gotta go deep and from the back of your throat in stealth mode past the silent yet curvy personality of "h" and "y". It's almost like a drumroll of energy all the way to the front of your teeth until the "th" coupled tightly together, brings forth that unity power sound. And, ever so subtle, your lips purse together pleasantly for the happy, yummy sound of "m".

Yes, I like this word.

Upon the get-go of 2012, I wanted to grab hold of a word in which to focus.

A word in which I could use as checkpoint, a measuring stick, a pace car if you will.

Because I love words. Remember all the fun I had with them this month?

I love wine too. And donuts and nail polish and dancing. But, those interests aren't gonna be the influential kickers for me this year, you know?
Hmmm, now that I think of it....
Anyway...

So words it is.

I wanted to choose one word that moved me in a direction of growth. I wanted a word that would be my mantra in all my life's platforms.

my faith

my marriage

my motherhood

my friendships

my family

my occupation

myself

At first brainstorm I came up with an entourage of one hit wonders:

pace
consistency
~~rockstar~~
balance
shine
smile
rest

But, they weren't all inclusive enough to me. I needed a word that spoke about what I am and what I want more to be holistically.

Then, rhythm came to my heart.

rhythm |ˈriðəm|

noun

a strong, regular, repeated pattern of movement or sound

And, it was a perfect fit.

So I asked him to be mine.
{rhythm}

For an entire year.

I totally went Sadie Hawkins on this six letter mister.

Fortunately, he gave me his proverbial class ring, I found a corn pad for the appropriate fitting purposes, and now we are rock steady.

Rhythm and me have shacked up for almost one week now.

And, I am not gonna lie.
I like to fight him.
I seek discord all to often than he prefers.

By Wednesday, rhythm and I made up and I gave into his requests.

Evidence where we found one another are in the pictures above.

I sound all kinds of loose, but I promise he and I will marry in the remaining 51 weeks.
I hope to document our courting rituals here once a week.

This is the one time where I'm okay with giving the milk for free.
Rhythm happens to be in the cow buying business.

At least I hope he is,

.mac :)

These Two in Fifty-Two

2012-01-05T11:12:00.000-05:00

A huge part of me is what you see in this picture above. These two are the reason k.Mac was born; they are the proof in my pudding that staying home is a good thing.

For almost 7 years, I have had Eli Garrett by my side.

Energy driven and soft hearted, this little mister is a magical design of goodness in progress.

And, for almost 5 years (t-minus 17 days and counting) Casey McGill has called me mama.

He is fiercely full of character and strong will.

Simply put, life, well, life gets in the way of honoring them. Too often, schedules and tired eyes leave me overlooking the joy that I have been given to carry the name mama.

Ruffled & raw edges,while we rub close in proximity, create a dullness to my perception of them more frequently than I care to admit.

So, I am challenging myself to actively pause and reflect.

{on them}

{for 52 weeks}

Because, they are here under my wing for only a short while.

And soon, through practice & dreams & growth, they will fly away from this place called our home.

The memories I choose to keep will be the remains of their wonderment here.

{choose}

{keep memories}

{actively pause & reflect}

I'm gonna.
Once a week here.

.mac :)

-4-

2012-01-04T14:22:00.000-05:00

Communication is a place where I need to grow.

For those of you who read this and know me, we can all agree that I am by no means quiet.

Ahem, extrovertly adept, I'd like to call it.

But, I have just had this hankering notion for almost all of 2011 that I don't reach out enough.

With Facebook, phone calls, ~~obsessive Twittering~~ and texting at my grasp, I still tend to miss the boat on making time for the ones I love outside of this home of mine.

So, I have decided for 52 weeks I am sending a set of snail mail cards to my peeps.

This week there are 4 headed out into zip code land.

The recipients?

1. a kindred spirit of mine
2. a platinum blonde who just might enjoy a treat
3. a lady with great legs
4. someone who radiates happiness and peace every time you see her

And, I had a big fat smile on MY face when I slid these in MY mailbox to be sent off.

Giving and getting,

.mac :)

From this place.

2012-01-03T13:07:00.002-05:00

New wrestles with my soul.

I think it's the idea of beginning again and the concept of improvement that tickle me in that "quit it, but please don't stop" all-in-one breath mindset.

Beginnings are so good.

Like when you first start dating all flirty, lip glossy and clean shaven.
And when the boxes are unloaded and the sorting of yours with a new set of keys commences.
Or, that new car smell. Who can't get enough of that?

And, just the way start sends my spirits into a hyperdrive of happiness it equivocally shuts down my all systems go in a stammering stage fright of "what ifs" and "maybe I can'ts".

Then who can deny the overachiever in us all?

That inner bone of yearning located somewhere in the chest cavity that compels you to make it happen complete with a gold star sticker atop the right hand corner of your paper next to your name and date.

Right before you know it, you are all knotted & twisted in a yarn ball of gumptions of growth and growlings of grief stricken inconsistency.

And you find yourself searching for the dad-blamed scissors with a maddening quickness so to unleash the trapped fury of YOU.

But beginnings are good.

They are a platform for life.

To grow.
To change.
To fail.
To redefine.
To manage.
To hope.

As I look forward to the new year's fifty-two sets of seven in which we currently are rocking day 3, I boldly confess that I do, in fact, have a laundry list of hopefuls for my personal dance with twenty twelve.

Now, making sure to be stocked with just the right fabric softeners, detergents and stain removers is key.

Because life is the fabric softener AND the stain remover.

And perhaps being mindful of this is what will make this new 12 month cycle all the more fruitful.

Yes, new wrestles with my soul.

But below is proof that wrestling ain't all bad from this place.

Cheers to twenty twelve!

.mac :)

{top photo features k.Mac's new eyelet bloomers in your choice of monogrammed threading and tulle colors. Buy them separate or as a set. Contact meghan@kmaccreations.com to order.}

Just right.

2011-12-23T10:01:00.002-05:00

Steadily, you guide me.

With openings and clasps,

Like a masked bandit, you turn & twist counterclockwise.

Loops, you create.

Loads you transport.

In soft light and dark hours, you heal away tears trickling.

Your own and others.

You hold close hurt hearts and broken things.

You high five.

You spank.

You weave in and amongst tiny fingers ten.

all.out.of.love.

Through mountains of fabric, you create.

1 dimensional turned 3.

Sheers slicing.

Placed pins pulled & put back.

Griplock to the iron's hand.

You are my right.

And, so often, I neglect you.

I see your tale tell signs of the times.

The signs of her in me are becoming so clear.

The light lines traced like cracks are her steps before me.

The twisted knuckles remind me so.

One solid band adorns you.

Almost 10 years it has.

Dinged and scratched, it still finds its way.

A R O U N D

And complete.

My right.

It is only fair that I give you more.

Of me.

Of who I am on the inside.

Of what I hope to be to others on the out.

My right.

Just right.

Just write.

Just right.

Just write.

My left hand.

.mac :)

Transitional

2011-08-29T08:55:00.000-04:00

Quiet amblings amid rumpled covers.
In & out of now.
Mind jargoning with plans both premature & present.
I wake & slumber simultaneously.

Like dew in the new morning, the doubt shimmers iridescently on my skin.
Twisted in and amongst the what-ifs, the shimmer is more honestly known as sweat.
stenchy & real.

I do this more times than I can count.

Stifle success.
Shut progress up.
Second guess His plan & provisions.

I eradicate hope.
The one thing that is and will always be free.

It is here where the phrase "getting on your own nerves" is so aptly appropriate to my state.

.mac

I have an addiction.

2011-08-27T23:11:00.000-04:00

And, so badly I want a ramekin of sea salt and this bar just to go one louder.

You know, like Fun Dip?

Good gaw, get this piece of sin out of my house quickly.

I think I might even be growing horns.

{chocolate ones with salty tips}

Yum,

.mac :)

I let him go.

2011-08-25T10:50:00.000-04:00

Away.
8 hours.
Without Mama.

With "B" close by his side, he is ready.
He left grinning and waving out the top of the back window cracked.

He's in good hands.
Just for a little while.
Make some great memories, Casey Face.

Like this one.

I love you,
Mama

FLARP AND FEEDIN'

2011-08-24T07:30:00.013-04:00

Combat vehicles and kin are the perfect mix.

On Sunday afternoon Kenny's sisters {MiMi and Tee-Tee to Eli & Casey} along with their Uncle Jonathan, Papaw, cousin Mark, as well as their highly skilled safari mother loaded up for some off road outtakes in the county of Cocke.

MiMi and Jonathan are the proud of owners of this all terrain BeAsT you see us uploading complete with collapsible ladder; Uncle Jonathan can be found in the dictionary under the word "prepared" mind you.

You think Tee-Tee is a bit overjoyed to safari with wildlife?

No.

She is crazy scared and that would be the look of terror propped under that adorable hat of hers.

Check out how Tee-Tee rocks the smile when animal-feeding directions are being delivered.

Me on the other hand, well, there is some disbelief under those shades, my friends.

Reminder: Uncle Jonathan and MiMi are top of the charts in tow with action snack packs for each youngin. Each bag had about 5,000 calories of naughty goodness AND a can of FLARP.

Nice one, MiMi.

Oh furry ones? We be hookin' you up!

And, now for your virtual safari tour, enjoy:
{Yes, we fed each of these animals in quantities of 4 or more}

Camry + 9 point buck = WHAT KIND OF FOOD Y'ALL HAVE UP IN HERE?

Whilst Uncle Jonathan drove and the children crammed tiny clusters of tube-like cylinders of joy into furry creatures' mouths, I snapped pics and Papaw had some father-daughter bonding.

Back at the ranch once we rode through not once, but twice to feed the hoofed and/or feather loverlies, we decided to try a little stationary nibble love.

Meet Zoe. She is a Zorse. I wanted to tuck her in my pocket and take her home.

A rugrat resting with a grizzly...

And, well, this is ONE LUCKY BEAR!!

Drenched in one's finest natural animal essence mixed with quite possibly 10 coats of good ole Cocke County, TN sweat, the Cobble kin finally decided to vacate the premises of this fine establishment.

Super time.

Great company.

Another memory in the book of life.

And, we still have the FLARP to boot.

.mac :)

{fyi}

2011-08-23T12:51:00.000-04:00

When one experiments with a new eye wrinkle cream, results are visible even overnight.

{undesired and allergic}

But, results nonetheless.

Wow.

.mac :(

p.s. Thought I would throw in this little vanity post regarding the fight against the aging of the eyes as I my last eye post was a bit more profound. Gotta keep it poppin' around here, you know.

The Patriot Family

2011-08-19T14:11:00.000-04:00

A family is like a place to me.

A togetherness that surpasses all circumstances.

It's that regal connection of unity.

It's the output of instruction; the movement of progress; the integrity of growth.

It's leading with confidence.

It's diligence in direction and purpose.

It's holding close and smiling big.

It's supporting one another.

It's providing.

It's letting loose and learning too.

Family is watching traditions transcend from young to old.

It's finding your way.

It's us.

Again

And again.

Proud to be the newest members of the Patriot Family,

Kenny, Meghan, Eli and Casey Cobble

Go Patriots!

The Mark of a Champion

2011-08-18T09:28:00.002-04:00

There is an art to winning.

I can't decide if its inner most energies are bred deep in ones' veins or if it is just an tenacious decision on an individual's part.

I kinda feel it's a soft serve swirl of both.

This Spring season we had the pleasure of adorning the vibrant orange and in-your-face blue of the Mets. Eli and Casey took their first stab at wearing the long socks, if you will. Both were guaranteed to be on the same team, and Kenny and I felt it was time to rock that tawny dirt covered-much-like -that-of- a-spray-tan-look.

The Mets were frail. Frail being best used to mean we were clueless.

cLuElEsS

With only 3 players to have ever played before, it's safe to say we had no where to go but up. The season settled with Kenny being an assistant coach totally unplanned. And, likewise, I found myself with a crumpled line-up in my hand just a few feet behind the happy you see below.

It is here that I could quite confidently write a dissertation on the role of "player".

I will spare you my copyright here, yet bless you with a bulleted version. I'm cool like that to the skimming eyes:

Athletic parents have a predisposed mindset when it come to playing...ANYTHING.
4-6 year old leagues require a 2-3 adult pill intake of Tylenol before any game.
There SHOULD be practices for this age limit as opposed to the "let's just show up for the game" approach.
Parents that send more than one 12 oz. bottle of Gatorade into the dugout for a child that has a bladder that is only 48-72 months old are bonkers.
"If you don't want to shake hands after the game with the other team because you got out at 1st base then that's okay" mentality quite possibly is what is wrong with America today.

Alrighty then.

In and amongst all of the above, the Mets found themselves in a magical place come mid-June.

{Coach Thunder Dan and his son, Cash, writing the line up}

The orange crush and cobalt blue landed themselves warming up for the championship game for the season.

Playing against the infamous Braves.

And from April-June, I watched Eli and Casey become part of something big.

A mish-mash of cleated vagabonds, these Mets slowly connected with winning.
And, the process it takes to get there.

Their performance in the playoffs astounded all who rocked the wooden planks.

Double elimination was the playoff set up.

The Mets course of play against the A's, the Twins, and the Royals was like a dream.

Which set us up to verse the Braves with one loss under their nylon stretchy belt already.

The game commenced at 6:00 PM. Temperature was about 98 degrees.

Lotsa sweat.
Lotsa sweat.
Some insurmountable plays by both squads.
Some really BIG mess ups.
The Mets lost 17-16.

Onto game two with a 30 minute recess between.

It is here I would like to interject that Kenny, so immersed in battle, could not speak to anyone during the recess.

I was a wreck of nerves and emotion.

4-6 year old baseball playoffs, mind you.
[Please refer back to bullet point 1 now.]

Game 2 was grueling.
We had to lose for the Braves to be champs.
I cannot tell you the number of times I watched gum drop out of the mouths of babes only to return to its molar homes. "Quit playing with the grass." and "Get your glove off your head." were shouted on several occasions.

But somehow, in and amongst the ridiculous-ness of a 4-6 year old double header in 98 degree heat, I found it.

{the mark}

It surpasses absurdity.
It exceeds conditions.
It trumps intimidation.
It excels in spite of defeat.

Eli Garrett, pitcher, rocked a double play only to go on and nail the third out in the bottom of the fourth inning.

His triple of the stitched sphere that knocked in the run to place the Mets one louder on the score board.

His eyes piercing and zoned.
Almost glazed, but with a wildness to the sight.
In motion and unwavering.
Focused.

Poised, he made his mark.
And, all present that night saw it.

Especially his little brother.

Casey's knocks grew ever more poignant as the innings rose in volume. He found direction in his older brother's stature for victory.

And Daddy couldn't have been prouder.

Coach Thunder Dan actually gave the game ball to Kenny for his leadership and presence throughout the season.

The mark of a champion.

How is it made?

Where can you find it?

In glossy trophies and dirt filled cleats?
In unison towards a common goal?
In leadership full of energy and direction?

Yes, there is an art to winning.

And, I can't decide if its inner most energies are bred deep in ones' veins or if it is just an tenacious decision on an individual's part.

I kinda feel it's a soft serve swirl of both.

.mac :)

Hiatus

2011-08-17T13:41:00.000-04:00

We all need a break sometimes.

From school.
From mediocrity.
From routine.

Spontaneity so soothes the soul.

{photos by mama, eli, and casey}
Location: our favorite place

.mac :)

Four Walls

2011-08-16T07:30:00.002-04:00

I can't quite speak to you directly as you don't rightly have a name.

Your address fits snuggly into any GPS.
You even have a mailbox with numbers.

And, in a world of things, you are just one more of them.
But not to me.
Your place in my life is rich like the Earth, muddy and deep.

Yes, 4 walls can mean that much.

My pillow lies within you.
My feet find their callouses in your grass and grit.

I find my cadence each day on your back porch.
That place where wilderness whispers good morning no matter what window I look out of.

My children call you theirs.
Fragile folds of newborn skin sit propped upon your nails from a photographer's lens.
Tiny eyes closed on my chest as little breathes expel sweetly.
black & white and still.
Eli Garrett and Casey McGill.

Their lives created within your walls.

Our first anniversary dinner.
Me in my night gown hair so very short & wet.
Kenny moved our kitchen table right into your outdoors.
Onto the same porch that would be the sight of this magical memory to come.

And now, we wait anxiously to let you go.
This notion is so preposterous yet ridicuously real in our lives.

Yes, 4 walls can mean that much.

You just capture us, 1012.
You meet us right smack in the middle where sweet solitude and character marry simplicity and style.
Bought hastily and speedy quick over nine years ago, we have lived life through your walls.
We have peeked out your windows hoping our dreams would come true.

And, you have tucked us in each and every night with even more dreams to slumber upon.

Our life has made its way in and amongst you.
From pumpkins gutted on newspapers, to mistletoe kisses, and hot summer sweats, our seasons rest within you.

So, please know that, letting you go is so bittersweet.
Mr. and Mrs. Howard Kenneth Cobble III's first address.
pregnant bellies and gliders stroked as swaddlin' commences.
Yes, within you.
Giggles and bubbles and slobbery crawls.
Big boy toy races and a business born.
Late night stitches and bouquets on a budget, you have provided a space for so much happy.

And, I yearn to keep you inside.
Selfishly ridiculous, I know.
Because, WE belong together as a family of 4 moving forward.
Like last pick in a dodge ball game, I ache to know you'll be left.
I pray for a someone so on the super side of special to have the privilege of a piece of the magic you have given us.

When they will show, who knows?
Until then and long thereafter, I will love you.
Your honey toned floors as I scoot my slippers across.
The way the afternoon light sprinkles delicately through to the living room each day.
The earnest and humble roll of the railway train rumbling through.
Eli's light.
The sturdy we have found in family within your possession.

Without a name, you are.
Without a place in out hearts, never.

Yes, 4 walls can mean that much.

.mac :)

Plurals & Placentas

2011-08-10T08:34:00.000-04:00

The story of two.

I love hearing how parents found out they were having twins.

The story unfolds with such excitement and joy with a little bit of disbelief and surprise too.

And making for twins is so super fun.

Go here to check out one of my favorite custom designs I did for a client having twins.

This particular client from South Carolina chose an owl theme for her little misses' nursery.

I truly had to contain my inner joy when it came to adding the ruffled trim.
I heart ruffles.
Not gonna lie.

I adored how the warm pink compliments the rich green in these b.blankets. The black provides just the right eye traffic to allow these 2 accent colors to POP too.

Plurals & Placentas.
k.Mac will gladly help you "add the s" or "change a y to i".

.mac :)

{curiosity}

2011-08-09T07:30:00.001-04:00

It's in him.
Bred deep and strong and still.

He seeks.

knowledge.
more.
action.
life.

Barefooted & tall.
My eldest.
I watch you grow.

I am inspired by your tenacity.
Your focus to invest yourself.
In what matters most to you.

For the rewards are most bountiful when you do.

{SEEK}

I'm so glad my lens found you on this day.

I love you,

Mama

Bug-a-Boo

2011-08-08T09:15:00.001-04:00

In typical Meghan fashion, I am in constant battle with one louder vs. simply stated.

I love the one louder approach.

the boosts of accentuated color in a happenstance scarf around the neck
the little tike sporting the black and white striped long sleeved shirt under the tee
my wrists often look like I have raided my grandmother's bracelet stash in attempts to get them all on my arms.

Ahem.

So when a very special client contracted me to make her daughter's 1st birthday outfit, you can only imagine the tingling sensation in my wrists.

This client loves giving me a project and then providing me the freedom to just create.

Ahhhhh, thank you.

The theme was ladybugs.

I kept thinking, "Go simple. Classic jumper with ladybug applique & name underneath."

But, I couldn't.

And, I love how my boys are always there for added inspiration too.

Casey face found these ladybug buttons, and said, "Mom, these guys could sit on leaves on the dress!"

Well, then it was on.

I constructed a 3-dimensional applique completely drawn by hand.
And, couldn't stop there.
This dress must have ladybug appliqued pockets for tiny hands too.

I opted for my ever popular summer couture dress, debuted first here.

Matching bloomers and many ruffles were are must you see.
And, who notices the ties on a dress?
I do!
I leaped at the chance to use the same ribbon from the {mollyemade} Twins from my hair happies line.
See, I use words like "leap" for sewing.
Yes, I'm THAT girl.

And, this sweet angel made my work boast beautifully.

1 year old and look at the modeling potential already.

I told you she needed those pockets for tiny hands!

This last picture swoons me.
GAH.

Her chocolate locks, rich and long, all cinched up with the work of my hands.
Coordinating ribbons cascading down her caramel cherub back in a custom made halter dress.
Looking for her mama...

Oh, there is so much joy in handmade!

.mac :)

Itchin'

2011-07-30T09:04:00.000-04:00

My feetsies got a tickle.
A ~~little bitty~~ big itch.
For some tunes & high heels.
Some shimmy shakin'.
And, seeing my sister rockin' beside me would so soothe my scratch.

Point me to the dance floor...

.mac :)

{dramatic interlude}

2011-07-27T11:58:00.001-04:00

1. I am in love with this image.
2. I am uncertain of my next address, but I know that one of my home's walls will replicate this look.
3. Falling plates.
4. I have always been drawn to plates on a wall.
5. Four of my walls in my current home are adorned with plates.
6. #3 could quite possibly be a metaphor for my life on so many levels at times.
7. I love that none of the plates coordinate or match, but better yet, have their own distinct personality.
8. I find strength in their offset placement narrow-broad-narrow.
9. I feel God taking my very own narrow and broadening it at this very point in my life.
10. I hope I can instill #7 into my boys when it comes to living life.
11. I am thankful for His {dramatic interlude}.

.mac :)

Under Da Sea

2011-07-25T19:24:00.000-04:00

"I'm free!"

Mollye Addison Casey

And, when your 3 and in love with Ariel, Aunt Meg gladly obliges.

Wouldn't you if your niece pointed to her feet, and proclaimed, "Aunt Meg, look at my fins!"?

I fell in love with the glitter ribbon.
And that became my inspiration for ocean water in that cotton top's locks!

Thus, a handmade seascape applique was a must on my to-do list for this little lady...

I drew it all by hand with the boys help one night,

The monogram just so in that yummy tomato red.

And, I drenched my creative self in tiny accents and details making Ariel as beautiful as I could. The red ruffle ribbon hand sewn this-way-n-that really gave the vibe of voluptuous flowing locks underwater.

Did I just use the adjective voluptuous for a Disney character?
Um, yeah I did.

And, I opted for a blue-green swirl of threads for her eye color.
Perhaps, this gal is in Ariel's lineage, no?
I do love my eyelash curler; perhaps Ariel does too.

And check out Sebastian! Casey was pretty adamant that he have the black wrinkled lines under his eyes. Nice detail investment by my little guy if you ask me.

Flounder was made using my mom's vintage yellow variegated knit. I always try to put a little of Mollye's namesake in any hand crafting I make for her.

Ahhh, my personal favorite...THE TAIL! I fused a gross green netting to an electric blue shiny material (that quite possibly could've been the same fabric used in my sophomore year prom dress made by mom) to create the scales for Ariel's fin.

Tricky, but so very mermaid.

And, alas, Eli spotted this pre-gathered fabric in Mollye's favorite color one day while supply gathering for k.Mac, so we had to whip up this couture no-brainer!

The answer is yes.

Yes, Mollye must have matching bows with every outfit made by Aunt Meg.

I love that the seashells are actually ones the boys collected while visiting Aunt Tee-Tee and Tone-Tone this May.

And, after all that...Mollye was Ariel the mermaid for her party too!
You'll have to go check the party duds out here.

She's "free!"
I can remember this day 3 years ago like it was yesterday.

Happy Birthday, Mollye the Mermaid!
You make my heart so very happy!

Love,
Aunt Meg :)

Choices! Choices!

2011-07-13T07:30:00.002-04:00

It is high time to get back into the swing of things in k.Mac's cyber world.

Let's celebrate with fabric! Ahhh, fabric. I love you so.

Macbook, I love you too.

{AND, I AM SO GLAD YOUR BACK ON MY LAP!}

I have a client in beginning the design process with me. She is having a little girl; her second to be exact.

After discussing with her the little one's name selection, my client's hobbies & interests, as well as colors she is drawn to most, I gathered fabric collections that seem to most suit her.

And, here they are:

I rely strongly on colors a client is drawn to as well as their hobbies & interests. And I like to request the little tee-tiny one-on-the-inside's name as I love to consider what personality this newborn may be.

It is important to me that the custom design I create be a perfect fit for the mama and the baby.

And now, I ask you to help my client out!

Of the fabric collections above, which one would you choose?

Can you tell I'm a bit over zealous with with graphic computer capabilities?

I mean really it's been ~~8 WEEKS~~ a long time without a computer...

.mac :)

The Hunt

2011-06-27T15:11:00.001-04:00

Sometimes I wonder where peace and balance unite.

Is it somewhere in amongst the confusion and solidity of the universe?

Could my ebbs & flows be the rippled waters tickling the sandy grains of shoreline?

Or can I find myself in the mighty & thunderous waves as they apex and descend intimidatingly in the marvelous blue unknown?

Better.

It's what we all innately long to be.
Better beings.
Better living beings.

Yet clouds of chaos rumble,
Time lines and deadlines command response.
And quality slowly steps aside as quantity plays the lead role on center stage.

Better beings.
Better LIVING beings, yes.

And so it is in my quandaries of less vs. more, I stop from time to time and look for their rendezvous spot?
That location.
You know, where peace & balance unite?

And like an adeptly keen bird dog with a fresh wet nose to the ground, my heart races to tail their scent and track them down.

And with my heart on the hunt, I am victorious.

Heart over head.
My heart in His hand.

Reminders...
For one and for all.

.mac :)

{enhance}

2011-06-26T07:30:00.004-04:00

Underneath.
Thin.
Precise.
An array

of c o l o r s.

peacock
persimmon
electric avenue blue
cobalt

Above.
Broad.
Smooth.
Supple & robust.

liquid or pencil

I delight in your embellishment.

.mac :)

Droplets

2011-06-25T07:30:00.002-04:00

Tender.

Swift.
Yet unapproachable you are,
For vulnerability proclaims your presence.

I am enveloped by you.
And with no scheduled appointment, we meet.

In times of happy joy, you trickle full.
In times of sorrow & doubt, you rage.

Your performance always commanding.

Your release...right on time.

Sequestering me from my pride; you revel in your now.

I am yours.

And, I am always better after your stay.

{TEARS}

.mac

Tucked

2011-06-24T09:09:00.000-04:00

{no photo}

Do you have any idea what the above type does to me?

I am typing with a very non-flattering cringe all up ON MY FACE right this very moment.

I have always known I was a perfectionist. I can clearly recall being just 4 years of age and taking great joy in adeptly maneuvering hospital corners while making my lil twin bed adorned with my handmade-by-mom Holly Hobby bedspread.

I can remember with great precision how I would climb into that twin bed to produce the least amount of ripples and wrinkles; I had it down to an almost exact science at four.

AT FOUR.

And, then when mom and dad would come to tuck me in at night I would require and vehemently request just a kiss on the forehead so as to not disrupt the covers any further.

I would sleep on my back with my hands to my side straight.

The visual is much like that belonging in a funeral home now that I think of it.

With all these precautions taken, I am sure it is no surprise shock to you that I would wake up only to de-robe the entire bed and make it all again from scratch.

Can one prescribe anxiety drugs to a four year old I ask you?

And I will spare you of my door-closing metaphor for life that reverberates in my noggin on a daily basis.

Let's just say wine helps.

And for those fellow perfectionists out there, does your work ever feel perfect to you?

Cast my vote as no.

So, I like to think that my circumstances, as of late, are for a better reason.

5 weeks sans computer (Come to find out, MacBooks don't like orange juice. Nope, they don't want a drink, not even a small sip, even if it is offered to them by my 6 year old.)
Our family of 4 living in 2 different zip codes as Kenny moves forward with his new job transition.
A housing depression in a failing market AND our house up for sale
Me, without hair color for 4 months.
ME WITHOUT A HAIRDRESSER FOR 5 MONTHS.
The increase and abnormality of strange-ranger black hairs sprinkling my chinny-chin-chin.

Trust me, the last 3 are the most unbearable.

And so, I keep asking myself, where are your hospital corners now, Holly Hobby?

Ah, yes, the better reason.

{Growth}

No pun intended there for my chin hairs, mind you.

I am to step out and stretch.
Look past the controllable as well, control, he ain't there.
He never was.
Perfection? He doesn't exist either.

Reliance, Hardwork, Integrity, Honesty, Laughter, Love, Prayer, and Presence are asking me to tuck them nicely in.

Forget the right angle-fold down and forehead kiss.
Pile in and snuggle full bodied.
Coffin living ain't the life for me.

I am reminding myself daily.
{Growth}

And, I have a call-in prescription for those prickly suckers on my chin.

Prevention and Perseverance all tucked in ~~perfectly~~ comfortably.

Yes, that's more like it.

.mac :)

-wobbled-

2011-05-24T08:45:00.007-04:00

This word pop.smacked into my head yesterday evening while running.

wobble

For those who have kept up with my ~~inconsistent~~ spontaneous writings can recollect my love for words.

I find it to be the exact, spot-on description of my life since my last tippity-tap.

Wobbled is just me, yes.

Visually, the word is stable in its stature. The 2 "b's " dead middle with 2 letters sitting pretty on either side. The "w" with its broad base plopped right next to the robust & ever-popular "o" as they play cat-n-mouse with the slender side of "l" and "e".

Proportionally unbalanced.

And, I love {just love I say} its silly succession out your mouth.

All tongue-contorting and ridiculous.

Kinda leaving a lofty, loopy aftermath, you know?

And it's meaning?

wobble
verb.
To move unsteadily from side to side repeatedly.
Yep, that's got my name all over it.
Change, I love you and despise you all in one.single.breath.
- I am that lone set of high heels on the dance floor begging for one last song.- The one waking up on the 3rd day of a 5 day vacation in mourning that there are only 2 more days left.- The girl in constant search for a new haircut or color.- The lady in the kitchen taking the recipe and tweaking it once more even though last time and the time before that compliments were received.- I like to make rules, hold myself wickedly accountable to them only to completely neglect their existence in my life all together at any given moment.
Me.
I find myself an oxymoron more times than I can count.
I am the marriage of spontaneity and routine.
And using this provided space to just let my hair fall down around these shoulders of mine feels right for the now.
1. My family will have a new address.2. My husband is hard at work at his dream come true.3. I am so proud of him.4. We have a house to sell.5. And, there are 9 years of a life here with wonderful friends, feelings and places to bid farewell.6. But, there will be always be a new front porch for flowers.7. And, a back porch for sittin' too.8. I have felt like I am stuck on day 3 of my 5 day vacation since February.9. Yet anxious to see what new color & cut I will try next.
Spontaneity and routine.Proportionally unbalanced.
.mac :)

Incognito

2011-02-07T06:00:00.007-05:00

Sewing is rhythmic to me.
It's precision and problem solving too.
And, it takes time.

With cutting, pressing, and stitching, I find time to invest.

Purpose is my prioirty in what I do.

For open opportunities await me.

And, purposefully, I aim to greet each one with a product handmade of high quality and better yet, a mindful focus.

Of course, I am mindful of the technicalities of my trade, but there is so much more to each custom design than just this.

I look at each project before me as a chance to learn more about myself all while connecting with the client with whom this couture design will belong to.

I invest my best work into someone else's excitement and creativity.

I think about the tiny baby, little tike, or the happy lady that will be receiving this couture item.

And it never fails, I find a little bit more of myself somewhere between the cutting, and the pressing, and the measuring, and the making.

My lesson from this k.Mac's Miss Merry Mac Pack shown in "Cammo and Ammo" fabric collection:

Live life intentionally. Plan and perform, but dance with delight in what you find when you least expect it.

For joy wears camoflauge too sometimes.

.mac :)

Open Up Some Happy

2011-02-04T08:06:00.002-05:00

What makes a home?

I kinda think the genetics behind a house are quite different from a home.

A home is a place of happy at work if you ask me.

It's imperfections yet routines.

It's a common feeling for all.

It's teamwork and rest.

Laughter and music.

Love out loud.

It's forgiveness and feeling through frustrations.

It's order and belief.

It's togetherness., toughness, and tenderness too.

It's time used.

These are just some ideas that come to my mind when I think of our home.

My history with what makes a home is derived quite possibly the same ways in which yours was.

I think back on my own.
And, I remember other homes I have been to.

My home growing up was a sweet mix of antiques, Bruce Springsteen & Emmy Lou Harris, and clean sheets every Sunday fresh from the line.

It was my dad bringing home fresh cut flowers for no reason at all.

It was family folding laundry evenings in the living room floor.

And, Dad's homemade pizza every Friday night.

It was the windows up and the smell of fresh cut grass.

Screened in porch playing and a front porch swing.

It was smells of sweet lemon in the kitchen and sun-made iced tea brewing on the front porch.

Ever noticed how everyone's house has its own smell? So much that the minute you walk in their front door you are acutely aware of its presence and whether or not you are, in fact, pro to that aroma.

I loved the smell of my home growing up.

I can still smell it in my mind to this day.

And I learned a little more about this thing called home a little later in life too.

I became roommates with one of my dear friends just out of college.

She was a hairdresser, and had an already established home of her own.

I think it had to be the perfect timing in my life for these concrete notions of home learned from her to take up residence in my heart.

Being 22, and completely new to just exactly what "setting up housekeeping" would one day look like for me, I silently learned a little bit more from her.

I love how God orchestrates the "others" in your life just when you need them most. For my mom was not around for this stage of my learning years.

Little did I know then, how much I would want and need mom when I was all grown up.

I am still reminded of the above statement.

My roommate, Amanda, kept a beautiful home.

You walked in and would immediately feel a sense of welcome.

She is a collector to this day, and somehow these collections of little happys make you want to sit down and stay for a bit.
Her home had a place for everything: orderly and methodical her layouts were.
There was always a jug of fresh sweet tea in the fridge.
Always little morsels in dainty glass dishes for tiny tummy treasures here and there.
Tablecloths and flower arrangements.
She even had the neatest wallpaper border of little shirts and pants hanging on a clothes line in the laundry room.
And the smell of her home was so inviting.
She was the one who gave me my love for candles.
Her house was a wonderful melody of scents that were never overbearing, but gently welcoming to your sniffer.
Amanda's house made me feel like it was my home too.

k.Mac's Sunshine for the Soul Home Goods is a place you can read more about here.

It is a segment of k.Mac I immensely enjoy.
Truly, I love making candles.
There is a rhythm to the process that is peaceful and inviting to my soul.
I delight in the diversity of each scent that I select to sell, as well configuring just the right smell status for a wonderfully profound and substantial aroma for the home.

These candles burn efficiently leaving no wax residue on the sides if burned correctly.
And better yet, a portion of the price goes to your choice of charity:

Susan G. Komen
Special Olympics

Making a house a home is a something I work on each and everyday.

Emmy Lou rocks loud in our kitchen most days.
Oh, and Bruce too.
$5.00 bouquets for no reason at all, totally.
Loving out loud, learning to loosen up, and letting go happens quite frequently.
And, smells of something happy are often a flicker.

For me, it's the little things intentionally done that make the most out of our memories.

Open up some happy in that home of yours.

.mac :)

***The k.Mac Facebook page has a candle giveaway today. Enter your favorite Sunshine for the Soul scent on the Facebook page for your chance to win. Contest ends 6:00 EST today.

Shakin' It All Off.

2011-02-03T10:01:00.000-05:00

{tree in our yard}

There are several reasons why I enjoy the art of writing.

It matters not my content; words out serve me in the most medicinal way.
They seem to cleanse me. Better yet, they provide my heart with a clearer circulation.

Upon starting this blog, I wrestled with what exactly people would want to read.

For I realize that blog hopping and blog reading can occupy many precious minutes of one's day.

I find myself grappling with the subject line more than often these days.

Simply put, that's annoying to me.

As in, I get on my own nerves.

Do you ever get on your own nerves?

I'm there.

So, for today, I feel the urge to be scattered in topic.
Kinda like the snow on the above tree.
Each branch laden with icy crystals.
Every snowflake diverse in form.

I give you my icy crystal branches:

My hair is dirty. Dirty and long. I need to wash it, but anyone with long hair knows washing takes a little more work.
I loathe getting the hair out of the drain once that washing is complete....eeeeewww.
I have begun a weekly cleaning regimine for the home. I complete 1 big chore a day in hopes of not being overwhelmed with a filthy home. So far, so good.
I am slowly coming around to the fact that I have an addiction to my cheese grader. I can eat an entire block of cheese in like 2 days. The grading is somehow theraputic to me, and well, the cheese is just yummy to my tummy.
I just cleaned out mine and the boys' closets. 97% of the contents of our closets come from my Goodwill 1/2 off weekend excursions. For those of you not in-the-know, please see this post for quite possibly the best adventure of your life.
I'm a little over dramatic at times. {You want proof? The last sentence in the above bullet. Although my heart feels deep down that it IS one of the best adventures in my life}
Installing grommets in my handbags requires some rigorous manual labor. {No, I'm not being dramatic on this one.} Cutting and hammering along with some good ole muscle power is needed.
Yesterday, I hammered my right index finger upon intstalling the last grommet in a bag.
The finger is black, blue, and swollen. Nice.
I have a super fun weekend ahead, and am struggling with just exactly what to wear. Anyone else do this?
I run really fast on a treadmill. I mean really fast.
I am notsomuch coordinated when running on a treadmill.
I have fallen twice, gotten tangled in my earplugs connected to the TV, and twisted my ankle.
Perhaps the open road is just meant for me and my running.
I am in love with this coffee. Infatuated even.
I have a theory on touch cell phones. I truly feel that the angle for opening and manipulating the phone is biased to the right hander. I CANNOT open or use my phone key pad with my left hand. I have to use my right. Does any other southpaw out there feel this way?
I have 2 new bag designs in the works. I am dying to get time in my schedule to do a 2nd test run to work some more of the kinks out as well as carry them for my 6 month trial perioid.
I never thought in a million years that I would have a Superhero calendar hanging in my home, and that I would be okay with it. I do, and crazy enough, I am.
I have a new face washer I got from my Dad and Janie for Christmas. I am seriously in love with it. I plan to do a post JUST about this tool and what it means to me one day soon.
Why do I wrestle with the skinny jean look with flats? I'm 5'9" for goodness sakes. I can swing it. Not that shorter people can't, but why do I feel it looks super cute on others and notsomuch me?
I think my nose is growing. Like for realz. I never realized it was that "established" on my face.
I cannot for the life of me grow pansies. They NEVER work for me. This is my last year to plant them. I mean it this time.
Blushing Nude by Clinique is a lipstick I am really digging right now.
Casey really is Kenny's carbon copy.
I am putting red lights on our backporch for festive Valentine's Day decor throughout the month of February. I am pretty jazzed about this.
I want to try to make sourdough bread from scratch. Checking around for starter recipes.
There are some really fun fabric collections on the k.Mac website...one of my favorites...."Dance with Me, Mama"---go check it out here.

Ah, rapid fire free bulleting feels good on a Wednesday morning.

I think I just shook my branches bare.

.mac :)

Officially

2011-02-02T00:00:00.001-05:00

There's something official about this photograph.

Official, yes.

In between those significantly stone-faced cowboys, a binding friendship has begun.

-Eli-

A 5 year & 10 month old (to use his terms here) is official.

Officially begun his quest for friends.

Friends that meet you at the front door with a smile on their face so happy to see you.

Friends that share your passions of pretend.

Cowboy shooting

Outlaw hustlin'

Outdoor forting too.

Friends who earnestly scramble and plead with mama for "just a little more time", please.

Friends who giggle uncontrollably at the silly you both set free from your mouths.

Eli is there.

He gets it.

He gets the special-ness of having someone to his house.

The night before, Eli planned what toys he wanted out so that he and his guest could make the most of their time together. He even asked to check the weather to see the chances of some outdoor time.

And Eli made it all the easier for his little brother too.

Casey was included each and every play of the afternoon.

Officially, he's growing.

Growing deep.

Making notes in that little mind of his on just what friendship means.
On how it plays a part in his life.
On who to call friend.
And who to share his little brother with too.

Officially, Eli is stretching out farther than my grasp.
Slowly but surely, I see him inch a little further away.
Only to come back to me for snuggles and books.

Officially, I am honored.
Honored to watch this little man of mine grow acquainted with friendship.
To see him trust and share and learn.

And officially, I am reminded.
Reminded that friends are to be intended.
For growing deep, you know.

Thank you once again, Eli Garrett.
Your lessons come in the most perfect of timing.

.mac :)

FINALLY!

2011-02-01T08:33:00.000-05:00

This is BIG for me.

Monumental even.

k.Mac's new website is here.

It's here.

IT'S HERE!

It has taken right at a year to complete.

I looked at the designing and re-writing of the website as an adventure and tried only to work on it when I felt fresh and energized as I wanted only my best given.

I have hemmed & hawed on pressing the publish button for far too long.

Thankfully, I have Kenny in my life to push me just when I need it most.

I hope this new place is informative and helpful to all interested in handmade goods from k.Mac.

For this place, to me, is so much of who I am.

I am contnuing to work on the glitches that just aren't quite right. You know, like fonts outta whack, stubborn links that refuse to work and a few sticky placement issues, but I'm already receiving some wonderful words as well as business as a result of k.Mac's new facelift.

And, I am grateful to be in the midst of progress, imperfections, and promotions.

k.Mac has a Facebook page. Click here to join in on the fun of handmade. I would love to have you on the k.Mac team. It is here you will find sneaky little sales and giveaways too. I'm a talker so I plan on using Facebook as a place to gab it up on new products as well as current custom designs. Feel free to gab back if you wanna.

You can also find links to the k.Mac website, {mollyemade}, and my Sunshine for the Soul Home Goods line on my blog sidebar.

I would love to hear your thoughts on the new place.

Ready, set, go....

.mac :)

Proof

2011-01-25T01:22:00.001-05:00

The above picture is simply documented proof....

The boys do not get being "hams" from me.

So there,

.mac :)

wrinkles

2011-01-24T00:26:00.000-05:00

Clouded eyes readjust the rearview,

A little more to the left...

No, don't look.

Just go on ahead.

You'll be just fine.

But my hand keeps fumbling with the tilt.

I do so as if I am being summoned.

LOOK.

And with knees fraile, I sit awhile.

And gaze back.

Second and third glances at my yesterdays become full-on stares.

Obnoxious & rude even for my gaping is a bit obtrusive.

But the photographs and memories don't mind.

I seek and I find old faces who knew me.

And, I them.

And these faces bring floodfuls of memories back to my very now.

Nostalgia is unforgiving when it beseiges your heart.

You relive.

You pause present and fervantly rewind.

Only to press stop and rewind again in hopes to hear the past more precisely this time.

Yes, perhaps this time through, memory won't leave out every last detail possible.

And there I go again.

Fidgeting more agressively now with the mirror.

Leaning forward, I stretch my eyeballs wide and closer in, in hopes for a better view.

Pissed I forgot my glasses now.

Where are those dang things?

Phsst, no time for that nonsense.

The look-see is about to leave me.

My heart races in remembrance of the past that held me.

Pictures pungent with messages sent and recieved.

sent and received

PAST.

Fingers aching to find a way to feel.

Knuckles buckling at the chance.

Lips on the ready to say it all once more, only this time a little louder.

Yes, with more gusto.

That'll do it.

An immediate urgency to put an end to this nostalgic-ness.

NO MORE.

For be it the best or the absolute worst, I don't like looking back.

It's in the fierce & frantic moments of fleeting memories-in-focus that I find nostalgia looking back at me.

Eyeballs wide and closer in for hopes of a better view.

I peer desperately at my many yesterdays.

And, sweetly my yesterdays surround me: the good and the bad.

And alas, I feel a sincere peace envelope me.

Discreetly, with a brilliance unknown to man, nostalgia whispers goodbye.

Foggy and diluted with emotions, I remain transfixed.

And suddenly, with eyeballs wide, there I am.

Staring at two green irises and overly dialated pupils.

Wrinkles are but her footprints left.

.mac :)

Change

2011-01-20T19:27:00.000-05:00

It's a good thing, you know.

What's that?

Oh, change.

It brings forth new perspectives and different angles all of a sudden-like.

It wrestles unequivocally with stagnancy and puts a good whoopin' on him too.

Did she just say whoopin'?

Uh-huh.
Yes, I did.

And change-ups are good for the soul, mind you.

They require some rearranging and some squirming too for that matter.

Like girls that go auburn outta their own bathroom and all by themselves late Christmas afternoon.

And, kinda like my photo shoot with my eldest son for the new winter blog header.

These pictures are what I envisioned.

Eli Garrett had something else in mind. {note the new header}

Both of us agreed on the lemon boa hair piece.

Who me?

I've been anything but stagnant.

Ahhh, change is is in the air!

.mac :)

Expendere

2010-09-29T13:20:00.005-04:00

I feel as though there is a tugging necessity.

A need o' mine, if you will.

To expel out all that is within.

I do this quite often in my journal.

It is quite entertaining to re-visit and re-read.

bullet |ˈboŏlit|noun
Printing a small solid circle printed just before a line of type, such as an item in a list, to emphasize it.
* I aDoRe these colors by Crayola. I feel as if adore is even an understatement. Each day in journal time with the boys, I am like a hungry lion searching for his prey of Tumbleweed and Cadet Blue in our crayon basket. I would just like to say "gu-gah" here.* These colors are so NOT my color palette of choice. I mean, come on, avid readers. Need I remind you I am akin to her.* These hues are breathtakingly calm to me. They are tone setters in my world of shades. I even have the boys on the Tumbleweed/Cadet Blue bandwagon now. * They blend immensely wonderful with colors that pop like rockstar raspberry (Yes, I concocted that name up all by myself. Thank me later, Crayola) as well as colors like Dandelion (which is the formal name for the typical colored grabbed for one Caucasian child's skin tone).* Seriously, Dandelion? Come on, Crayola. I'll send you my addy and no worries, I can totally work from home.* I am teaching the boys the art of side shave coloring. Again, gu-gah. There is nothing better than watching a 5 and 3 year old peel paper off a tube colored wax faster than they can eat a marshmallow. * Back in my days of paid teaching, one of the first covert operations I had was to seek out the absolute best illustrators in my class. You know, the ones who understood the concept of space. These were the kids that knew the difference between coloring and illustrating. What's that? Yes, there is a difference. To me, coloring is what you see that is empty and needs to be filled in. Illustrating, on the other hand, is seeing what is not there, but could be taking into account the senses and secrets to tapping into them. Yes, natural born illustrators inherently know that blending colors is more realistic and that... GASP, one can, in fact, throw in a swirl on top of a straight line stroke for added gusto. Hook, line, and sinker. Immediately, and I do mean, righttheverymoment I had them pegged, I would move them to sit with the lower level scribblers and the one-fourthers. (one-fourthers being the kiddos that used just 1/4th of the page for their illustrations).* Yes, I am okay with peeling the entire paper off of the crayon.* I usually like to make my own color names up for each color anyway. * Broken crayons don't bother me either.* I gifted myself a box of oil pastels about 3 months ago. The most fun I have had with them is watching the boys play with raw color and their investigations on how impressionably soft these color sticks are.* I DO NOT enjoy the permanent stains on clothing these oil pastels produce.* So, most often the boys use these in their boxer briefs. I stayed clothed rest assured.* I dream of using this medium in some Sunshine for the Soul Home Goods one day.* The picture above will be used again in at least 2-3 other posts I project. It has so many metaphorical meanings to me. * Whilst on the topic of colors, my nails are in definite deprivation of color. For like, the last 2 months. Sheesh. Gotta get on that.* I am in search of my perfect Fall signature color in clothing. * Yes, I choose a signature color to accentuate every season. It's a fun little game me and my noggin like to play together.* I am torn between a deep sea foam blue-green or raspberry. My hope is to infuse a mustard hue with either. I also like the idea of navy thrown in with either of my choices.* The older I get, the less I like the color black. Like, I don't want to wear it at all. Weird, huh? * I am so jazzed about the leaves changing color. I love the melon ones trimmed in gold with apple green tips. * I'm ready for a new haircolor. I have been funky with my brown & blonde, but I'm heavily considering a deep auburn brown solid these days. * %&*$, my gray hairs. 34 is the age I will mark on my calendar for the commencement of gray on my scalp. Prickly little stout suckers too.* I have this secret craving to paint a ceiling and 3 other rooms in my home.* Shhh. Kenny doesn't know that yet.
Ahhh, expel.Expend.EXPENT!
(once again, on the DL with that last ramble there as well. Kenny is a high school English teacher.)
.mac :)

{enough}

2010-09-28T01:11:00.005-04:00

contain |kənˈtān|verb [ trans. ]1 have or hold (someone or something) within : coffee cans that once contained a full pound of coffee.• be made up of (a number of things);

Contained is my oxymoron.

I am so but yet not in the least.

Unleashed is my enthusiasm.

My giddiness.

My glee and goofs.

In texts.

Conversations.

First impressions too.

I slop & slush my innerds only looking back to consider blushing a time or two.

Nah.

It's me.

God's child.

Meghan Alicia.

But then prolific thoughts seap out hidden away in attic spaces.

You said what?

You meant that.

You think you can, do you?

Do you really find rest in your now?

Your very best, really?

I toss in and out of my very presence.

Sucker punching my instincts and scolding my self-doubt.

I grieve my heritage.

Longing for a more optimistic revelry.

A place where Meghan Alicia is quite enough.

Long lived are the ones that breathed before me.

Thus, my existence documented.

My name written.

The ink fresh smeared from a southpaw swipe.

I live.

I am.

I work to lessen that juxtaposition.

Where credence one ups corruption one last and final time.

And smiling settles my soul.

As I am His.

And, I am me.

{enough}

In more ways than one.

.mac :)

(source here for visual aids. I adore these!)

Trio

2010-09-23T07:28:00.006-04:00

This summer we took our annual beach trip as a family. Luckily, some of our best friends were beaching it too that week. We arranged a day of beach time together. Tyler coaches with Kenny. Sarah is one of my most favorite people and 1 of 3 in our infamous Goodwill Hunting trio. And Garyn? Well, he is one of the boys' big buds and member of the Batstreet Boys.

Humidity high and feverishly excessive on our mid-morning sandy pad, I noted the family of 3 heading out into the water for some together time.

Scrambling with a fumble pop, I removed the lens cap from my camera hoping for some framers. And no matter which angle I attempted, I COULD NOT crop my eldest son out of the view finder.

Wishful to remain the incognito photographer in stealth mode, I was apprehensive to just blurt out "Get outta the way, Eli!"

I kept trying. Contorting myself in all sorts of Twister-esque positions, I was failing at removing this 4th figure from my looksee glass view.

White flag waving, I submit to the elements. CAP LOCKED humidity and the surplus figure are victorious.

I throw my hands up and join the ~~three~~ FOUR in the shallow waves.

"I was trying to get a family picture of you three without you knowing, but Eli and this humidity would have none of it!" I confessed.

And 3 months later, God reveals His vision on that June morning.

His humidity was signifigant; it was not yet time for Tyler and Sarah's lens to twist into focus.

And Eli?

Well, there was a reason I couldn't crop him out of my view finder.

hindsight |ˈhīn(d)ˌsīt|noununderstanding of a situation or event only after it has happened or developed

The Rich family are no longer meant to be a family of three.

Their story is miraculously moving, Read about it here.

God works in the details.

He is there even before you know it.

Look back and see.

Congratulations, Tyler, Sarah, and Garyn!

.mac :)

Jagged

2010-09-21T23:24:00.006-04:00

absence |ˈabsəns|nounthe state of being away from a place or person• an occasion or period of being away from a place or person
Impromptu feels so nice.It's that place where freedom and frenzy duke it out.It's merriment to my very core.Quick shuttered thoughts followed furiously by whispers of doubt.Skipped rhythms.Hustled hurries.{eeks}set.in.motion.Reality rotates just a bit.As routines grumble & cuss under their breath, exploration exudes from your body.Exfoliation of same ole-same ole commences.Scattered meets settled as if for the very first time.And I get goosebumps as they shake hands.
Away.Procured my spirit.Enticed my senses.Hushed and happied my heart.Undefined a teacher's circumspection.Illuminated the tan line on my left ring finger.
Jagged seashells are the perfect writing utensil too.
.mac :)

Lapsed

2010-09-20T23:21:00.004-04:00

My mind holds moments by bundles.

Gathered and measured, I segment.

Allot

Attempt to proportion.
But pockets of sequential snippets become but a blur when I am certainly focused.
I am relentless in task mastery.

Forbidden to be set free until possibility meets potential.
And when it does, I dream of ways to do it all over again.

extension |ikˈsten sh ən|noun1 a part that is added to something to enlarge or prolong it; a continuation
My work above {k.Mac's Curtsy handbag} is but an extension to say the least.
{7.5 hours in fabrication and construction}{using an out-of-town client's fabric for the design}{finding this particular fabric's happy match to coordinate}{adding 2 zippered closures per client's request}
And this client's words to me regarding the finished product:
Oh my goodness!! I love it! It's so cute, I could cry! Thanks so much!
ChandraMorrison, TN
Well, they turned the corners of my grinner right up and propelled me into yet another extension...
A BREAK.A chance to relax and enjoy.A time to re-group for my next custom design orders.And a chance to love on and let loose for a little bit.
Thus, this wordy flirt I have but commenced with month number nine, well let the extension begin. By my records, I owe a week-in-full.
And I will pay up.
Just you wait and see.
.mac :)
{k.Mac's Curtsy handbag comes in small, medium, and large. Shown above in size small. The Curtsy handbag comes with 4 interior pockets, 2 exterior frontal pockets and the option for an exterior back slip pocket. Additional closures as well as monogrammed bow options are all chosen and decided upon during customer's deisgn session.}

Bobbin and Me.

2010-09-12T23:59:00.004-04:00

At 11:59 EST, I am making my daily post by the skin of my teeth.

laborious |ləˈbôrēəs|adjective(esp. of a task, process, or journey) requiring considerable effort and time
Loose threads cloak my body.Deadlines.Double dutch with work and home.underthesameroof
Nite, .mac :)

Saturday Speaks

2010-09-11T21:03:00.004-04:00

2 games of soccer for 2 boys, Their first.Mama and Daddy on the sidelines, just.for.them.
A lunch at one of our favorite places.Peanuts and bagged fries.
A daddy home for a day.A mama tidying up the house.Chores.Bills.
An inspiration.Sneakers laced.6 miles run.
Alas, feet up.Wine poured.Husband by my side.
relax |riˈlaks|verbmake or become less tense or anxious : [ intrans. ] he relaxed and smiled confidently | [as adj. ] ( relaxing) a relaxing vacation.• [ intrans. ] rest or engage in an enjoyable activity so as to become less tired or anxious : the team relaxes with a lot of skiing.
Jack, the cat, knows best.
.mac :)

I heart this.

2010-09-10T23:58:00.000-04:00

shine | sh īn|verb ( past shone | sh ōn|or shined )1 [ intrans. ] (of the sun or another source of light) give out a brightlight : the sun shone through the window.• glow or be bright with reflected light • [often as adj. ] ( shining) figurative be brilliant or excellent atsomething
I sutmbled upon this quote today here.
And if I do nothing more in my life than this quote, I will be a wonderfully happy soul.
This is my mantra.
What's yours?
.mac :)

Two Sizes

2010-09-09T23:31:00.002-04:00

I could make for her forever.

I really could.

Thinking of her makes the corners of my mouth sore from all that smiling I do.

With every shift in season, I delight in having little pretties like these ready for that sweet niece of mine.

Made from my hands.

For her.
And much like my 6th grade hairdos, I am adventurous in my Mollye sewing.

Trying new twists on designs and color schemes.

And Mollye makes all my stitches look flawless...

These outfits were just a portion of her {mollyemade} Spring Wardrobe for 2010. I fell in love with the versatility of this smock-pantaloons look, I just couldn't stop at one.
I was certain to make matching bloomers for both outfits so that Mollye could have a shorter sundress type smock with matching bloomers and then also sport the pantaloon capris for a completely new look with the smock top.

Can I just pelt out an "eeeeek"for handcut personalization with this lapel pin...

We all know accessories can make or break an outfit...

And well, I went one louder with an additional Easter egg shirt to wear with those pink pantaloons. I mean the more outfits the merrier, right? You may remember the introduction to this sweet little outfit you see here.

time |tīm|noun1 the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole
It's that time again.And I haven't even shared with you all of her Spring goodies from Aunt Meg.In fact, none of her Summer handmade lovies either.
But, that's what time does.It pays no heed to documentation; it scoffs at consistency too.It moves.Stretches us all.It takes niece's size seven feetsies and poofs them into size nines in just 3 short months.In one way or another... just look back and you"ll see the marks.
Two sizes.Yes, it's time.
For SIZE 9 shoe shopping.And, I think the corners of my mouth are starting to tingle just a tee-tiny bit.

Aunt Meg :)

Haulin'

2010-09-08T20:01:00.003-04:00

pretend |priˈtend|verb1 [with clause or infinitive ] speak and act so as to make it appear that something is the case when in fact it is not : I closed my eyes and pretended I was asleep | she turned the pages and pretended to read.• engage in a game or fantasy that involves supposing something that is not the case to be so : children pretending to be grownups.• [ trans. ] give the appearance of feeling or possessing (an emotion or quality); simulate
One of my absolute favorite words.Where focus is fuzzy and foerver is right here and now.Dreams being delivered.Right before my very eyes.
.mac :)

Labor

2010-09-07T22:31:00.005-04:00

(Labor Day 2010)

Peering through Dogwoods,I find you.

And it seems as if before the lens is even focused, I am certain of what's inside the frame.

I snap swiftly and quietly only to hustle over and join in.

The sun sparkles its farewell summer heat.

A breeze intermittently whispers Fall is Coming.

With clocks hidden and socks damp with sweat, our family plays.

A catch-n-throw combo

A do-se-do every so often to switch up boys.

Monkey-in-the-middle

2 v. 2

3 v. 1 too

Giggles and belly flops are all around.

Loud and silly

The grass blades dance.

It feels good to hear daddy's laughter uncontrolled.

"Gettum, mama. Tackle daddy!"

And zig-zag I do try.

Flirting like the sparsely speckled leaves on the ground.

Two lads do too.

Long lofty passes

Lobs and straightliners

Angle runs & sidewinder sneaks.

The game is family.

The goal line is together.

And all of this is epiphanic to my very core as squint that one eye to peer in.

SNAP

sanctify |ˈsa ng (k)təˌfī|verb ( -fies, -fied) [ trans. ]set apart as or declare holy; consecrate : a small Christian shrine was built to sanctify the site.• (often be sanctified) make legitimate or binding by religious sanction : they see their love sanctified by the sacrament of marriage.• free from sin; purify.• (often be sanctified) figurative give the appearance of being right or good; legitimize

Labor is marriage.

Labor is giving birth to 2 boys.

It's loving and learning.

It's holding on and helping up.

It's gutting it out and growing.

It's teaching and talking.

It's providing and patience.

It's remembering and reevaluating.

It's worth it.

so.very.worth.it.

And I am certain of this each time I look inside the frame.

.mac :)

Overdue Fines

2010-09-06T10:50:00.005-04:00

It was a Wednesday evening.

The calendar had been calling our names.

MEET.

Your library books are overdue.

Giddy with glee, I stayed taskful all day anxiously waiting to remit payment.

MEET.

Sprite-like, I sprinkled the finishing touches on my today and dashed my kiddos to their semi-permanent holding area until daddy would be home.

The coins in my pocket jangled loosely.

MEET.

Just before removing myself completely from my hub, an idea burst like bubble gum popping right.in.my.face.

And I acted on it in the most...

spontaneous |spänˈtānēəs|adjectiveperformed or occurring as a result of a sudden inner impulse or inclination and without premeditation or external stimulus
manner.
I grabbed a jar, 2 trusty Bics, and strips of paper I had on hand.Peace out.MEET.
6:30 couldn't get here fast enough.
A little change in my pocket.Our library books were long overdue.
3 hours came and went in a blink of an eye.My dinner table guests?
One dear lifelong friend.An obsessively ridiculous amount of homemade egg rolls piping hot.~~A glass of cabernet savignon for me.~~Make that 2 glasses.A jar filled to the brim with questions to ask one another, dreams to recite & share, topics of fashion to comment on too.Plus, one wonderful waitress who chose to play along.
Pockets turned inside out as fines were forked over; my cup of friendship overflowed.I was restored.We met.
And the jar?We didn't finish.Strips of paper are still sitting pretty awaiting a 2 finger plucking.
And I am scrounging underneath car seats and in between couch cushions anxiously awaiting my next overdue notice in the mail.
.mac :)