Look who's back

My lovelies. My beautiful bloggy lovelies. I miss you so much.

You out there? Roll call, please!!!! Check in!

I've strayed from my blogging roots, forced into neglect of my first love when my Etsy shop became suddenly and inexplicably HUGELY POPULAR.

And frankly, Etsy customers pay me actual cash money, and you guys...well, you don't.

That's ok. I love you anyway! (But if you're moved to send me cash, I won't turn it down. Email me.)

But my shop has become too much for little ol' me so I'm taking a hiatus. This is what you'll see if you try to shop there (and if you're like everybody else on the planet, I'm pretty sure you're attempting to shop there RIGHT NOW, aren't you??).

There are a few things I'd like to accomplish in my down time. They include things like upgrading from Etsy to a legit all-on-my-own website, rebranding some aspects of my business, rethinking my inventory and production systems to increase efficiency, sleeping from time to time, reading a book for pleasure, reintroducing myself to my friends, getting a mani/pedi, and guess what? BLOGGING.

Yeah, baby.

Oh, and potty training the Monster. Remember him? Remember my little squishy faced baby boy?

Yeah he's almost 3. Kid needs to learn how to use the potty. It's time.

Aw yeah. Lighting McQueen underwear. Spoiler alert: This was a terrible idea. Back to Pull-Ups for awhile, yo.

An Open Letter to the Jerk in the Blue Car in my Kid's School Parking Lot

Dear Jerk in the Blue Car in my Kid's School Parking Lot,

There's something we need to discuss. I'm writing you out of concern. Concern for your health and safety.

You are dangerously close to being dragged out of your car and murdered in an elementary school parking lot, so please listen to what I have to say before it's too late.

Are you familiar with the school pick up line? No? See, that's funny, because you and I both navigate this line each and every day. You did know there were other people picking up their children at 3:00, right? We all form a line. Let me illustrate.

See the jerk in the blue car? That's you.

It's a line, Jerk in the Blue Car. There's an order to it. We all wait our turn. This is how civilized society operates. See, we all enter the parking lot through one small driveway. Then we pick up our children, and then we circle around the rest of the parking lot until we get to the other driveway. And then we exit.

But not you! You have another strategy entirely, don't you?

What...what are you doing??

This is where things get weird, Jerk in the Blue Car! We're all sitting in line, and then suddenly, your blue car just...gets out of line!

Yes, I know you have already picked up your child. I see that. I saw him climb into the backseat of your blue car. This was before I knew you were a jerk. Does your child know this about you, jerk? Is he a jerk as well? Is this some kind of jerk training program you're running?

Why are you turning? Do you not see the 9 other cars in line in front of you? You may not realize this, but we also have picked up our children and probably have other places to be. Yes, I see that there's a big gap between the parked cars, large enough for your car to fit through. But...I just...DO YOU NOT SEE US HERE?

No! No! Why are you doing that? Are you really doing that? You're really doing that! You're such a jerk!

 Why?? Do you seriously not see all these other cars, waiting patiently??

What's that? You need to get to the bank? Oh, ok. Well, I personally was planning to just pick up my child and then hang out here in this parking lot for the rest of the afternoon. So I can see that your need to exit this parking lot 3 minutes faster is definitely more urgent than anything I have going on.

And look! You have a friend! Did you pay this guy? Threaten his children? I don't understand why he's letting you get in front of him, as if crossing the parking lot in this chaotic manner is a legit route to the exit.

You need to stop this. You're a jerk. Please. Just stop, before somebody (not necessarily me, I mean, anybody could do it) snaps and flies across the parking lot in a fit of rage and tears your car to pieces. I'm just saying.

Think about it.

Sincerely,
Alyssa

A warning to my laundry.

Fair Warning.

If you are fabric in my house that is not nailed down, you will be put through the washing machine when you become dirty. And you will become dirty. This is certain.

If you have one of those fussy, entitled tags demanding you be "hand washed only" or even "dry cleaned only" (in the case of the latter, I don't know how you got here in the first place, and I'm sorry for the things you're about to see), you may be afforded the luxury of the "delicates" cycle, if I'm in a generous mood. But you will be washed.

Most of you will make it through just fine.

And those of you who don't? I'm sorry, but trust me when I say it's for the best. This ain't the life for you, princess.

Personalized Trick or Treat Buckets

One of my best sellers over the summer was my personalized beach buckets. I made so many of them and they were just so fun to do.

Custom Beach Bucket, $10.

Well, summer's over and I still have lots of buckets! The nice thing about these is they can be used for so much more than just the beach. I mean, it's a bucket! Use it to store toys or craft supplies, use it as a fun alternative to a gift bag at your next birthday party.

Or, of course, add a spooky design and give it to your kid to fill up with candy on Halloween! You guys know how much I love Halloween. Remember Gnarles? Gnarles is ready to come out and play again! STAY TUNED! Seriously. Stay tuned, or he will find you.

Anyway. :) This is what the Princess (who seems to believe she's dressing not as a princess, but as a vampire this year!) will be trick or treating with:

Your kids can have one too! $10

I love that kid.

This morning my daughter told me she'd found a dragonfly wing in our back yard.

"I knew it was a dragonfly wing because it was really big, and an oval, and it was shiny like a dragonfly. I put it in my science bowl."

"You have a science bowl?"

"Yes! Well, really it's a Tupperware. I keep it in the back yard."

"What do you put in your science bowl?"

"Cool stuff I find that I want to check out! Like my dragonfly wing. And I put some flowers in there so I can take apart the pollen and discover what's inside. Or like, I found some blue bark at school. Blue bark! So I put it in my backpack. I think it's still in there! I need to put that in my science bowl."

***

Near the end of the summer, she read Pinkalicious and the Pink Drink* and decided that she needed to have a lemonade stand.

So, we had a lemonade stand. On possibly the hottest day of the year.

She killed it.

She waved and smiled and COMPELLED cars to stop. She chatted people up. She up-sold them and convinced them they needed popcorn to go with their lemonade, or maybe they needed TWO cups, because it was soooo hot.

This child made $30. Selling lemonade for 25 cents a cup and popcorn for 25 cents a bag. THIRTY. DOLLARS.

Yeah. That's how I roll.

She used the money to buy a Monster High doll. And now she wants to be a vampire for Halloween. When did the Princess stage end? I wasn't ready.

***

She's in first grade now. The Monster turned 2 last week and I was kind of ok with that; he seemed ready to be 2. But my kids' birthdays are 6 months apart, which means when he turned 2, she turned 6 AND A HALF. That I wasn't ready for. Six hit me hard and it can't already be half over, can it? And then what? She turns 7? Preposterous.

Sigh. I love that kid.



*affiliate link, yo

Sponsored Post. Well, sponsored by me.

Some of you probably remember that I opened an Etsy shop. right around the time I...quit blogging. Remember me?? I'm a blogger. Or I was.

Well, the good news is my Etsy shop is BUSY! The bad news is it leaves little time for things like blogging and sleeping, and I miss you guys. And sleep. But mostly you guys.

The OTHER good news is that I've finally decided to do something about it. Since all I think about anymore is vinyl and design and tumblers and wall decals...I think I'll just blog about those things for awhile, and see where it takes us.

I'm really super excited about my newest product. I found these very nice little lap desks at Michaels, and I just knew I needed to vinyl them up.

I toyed with the idea of just personalizing them, and decorating them with something cute, like I'd seen others do.

But where's the fun in that?

The real inspiration struck after I took one to church for my little Monster to color on. He loved it! Monster is almost 2 now (I KNOW!), and sitting through church is not exactly his favorite thing in the world. But it happens to be pretty important to his mama, so he has little choice in the matter. The lap desk was like a magic wand...I put it in front of him, plopped some toys and coloring books on top of it...BOOM. He sat still. For over an hour.

Let me say that again.

My BUSY 2-year-old boy sat STILL. For over AN HOUR.

I was noticing something, though. He loved to color on it, but his real fascination is cars. And he seemed to think this little lap desk was the perfect surface for racing his cars.

And so...the Vroom Vroom Play Tray was born:

Get yours here. That's right. In my Etsy shop, Sticky Chic Boutique.

It's been a huge success so far. He drives his cars on the roads, he crashes his cars into the trees, and when he's done with his cars (it does happen, every now and then), he uses it to color in his Cars coloring book (natch) and have a snack. Out of his Lightning McQueen snack cup. Sigh. Are you noticing a trend??

I'm back and I'm blogging, and I would love, love, love if you would all take me back into the fold. I'm not just advertising merchandise here, I really am excited about the recent developments in my life. That's why I've been reluctant to blog this before...I don't want to turn into a self-promotion blogger. So I've felt like I had nothing to blog about because I'm so busy with my shop, but....well, right now, that's my life, and why shouldn't I just blog about my life, the same way I always have? Right?

I hope so. :) You don't have to buy anything, but thanks for reading.

I'm going to try to keep up with it this time. Here are some things you have to look forward to: The Monster (OK look, his name is Jack. I mean, it's right there in the photo. I'm over it. HUGE REVELATION) is turning 2 in five days, and his party is a week from Saturday. It's gonna be awesome. Also, I'll reveal the "girl" version of this play-surface lap desk. Unless your girl wants to play with the car one, which is totally fine and awesome. Just get her one of each. She's well-rounded like that.

xo

Louisa May Alcott actually died of tuberculosis. For the record.

So. My son had croup.

Remember my son? We call him the Monster in these parts.

He'll be 2 next month. TWO YEARS OLD. My BABY. He just turned 1 last week.

Anyway. Croup.

Or as I like to call it, The Croup.

Text message conversation between me and Ashley last week:

Her: "A. [that's her daughter] has croup."
Me: "What? Croup? Who is she, Louisa May Alcott??"
Her: "Croup is a modern day disease! You're thinking of cholera. Or the dropsy."
Me: "No way, dude. Kids in Little Women and Anne of Green Gables were always getting The Croup."
Me (after some fancy google work): "Croup was once a deadly disease caused by diphtheria bacteria. However, modern day antibiotics and immunizations have helped prevent or treat it. Today, most cases of croup are mild. See? Kids in old books were always dying of The Croup."
Her: "Well. There you go."

Naturally, after all of this, my son woke up the next morning burning with fever and barking like a baby seal.

Baby seal photo added for visual interest. Isn't he cute?? I'm sure he doesn't have croup, don't worry.

Of course our entire family was concerned and sympathetic. I stayed home from work for 3 days to cradle him and love him and let him give me slobbery croup-germy kisses.

When he wasn't coughing, he was breathing like Darth Vader. It was pitiful. And it led his loving big sister to initiate conversations like this:

"MONSTER!" [She didn't really call him that, you guys. She called him by his actual name.] "STOP IT!"

Me: "Honey, he's not doing it on purpose. He's SICK. Leave him alone."

Her: "No, mom. He keeps BREATHING and it's really LOUD and ANNOYING."

Me: "I know. He's sick, he can't help it. Please stop yelling at him."

Her: "He looked RIGHT at me and then he started breathing LOUDER. Make him STOP."


In conclusion. Don't call your friends' kids Louisa May Alcott when they get weird old-timey diseases, and also don't have a mouthy 6-year-old daughter. You're welcome.