Hi friends. I have my back to my kitchen because I haven't cleaned (no, like, at all) since Friday, and I have company coming tomorrow and have to make the place presentable.

So, I'm eating a lunchable and ignoring it.

Now, in my defense, I sprained my ankle Saturday. (Oh, you poor thing! how'd you do that?) (Well, I'll tell you. Thanks for your concern.)

I work in a yuppie part of Dallas with a bunch of yuppie people (I love you all so much, but I speak the truth). Anyway, I have been trying to fit in with them since I started there, but the truth is I just don't. I mean, they are all good to me, but I'm different. I'm not going to shop at Nordstrom or be good at accessorizing or wear skinny jeans. And frankly I feel overwhelmed and like a full on failure every time I try.

Anyway, since joining forces with my redneck fiancé, I have slowly given up even trying to be yuppified and gotten back in touch with the Arkansas girl in me. I have gotten very comfortable with boots and jeans and sweatshirts and cheap beer in cans and mud and just being a tomboy who likes to wear make up and get dressed up from time to time.

So, when all his redneck friends invited us to go muddin' on Saturday, I readily agreed. And, as I do, I joined in all the good natured smack talking and wound up getting, ahem, tackled. And when one gets tackled in a muddy field full of deep tire tracks, one is likely to stumble backward into a tire track and sprain one's ankle....which is exactly what happened to me.

I have been trying to stay off of it as much as I can and still tend to the small village who live in my house (so, basically, I am on it constantly). And now I am backed into a corner and have taken copious amounts of ibuprofen and kept Silas home from school to entertain Gavin (for shame on me! I know. Don't care.)

Now, along the lines of me being lazy and bone weary exhausted and incessantly chasing, feeding, or cleaning a child, I'd like to give a shout out to Pinterest (and my "food" board) and my crock pot. Saving my life, y'all. I see that crock pot and get the warm fuzzies. It also has gotten us out of the food rut we were in - rotating the same 7 meals every week.

On the weekends (when my fiancé isn't at work for 15-17 literal hours a day), I make non crock pot recipes, and I have discovered some really good meals. During the week, the crock pot keeps me from ripping my hair out. I wish I had jumped on this bandwagon years ago.

And on a completely unrelated (but incredibly exciting) note, the Jeep is gone!!!

Michael and I visited a very good mutual friend at the Kia dealership yesterday, and I bought a new Optima (in my very own name!) I imagine you are thinking "Er, why did you buy a sedan? Hadn't we sentenced you to a minivan?"

The thing about being prone to procrastination is that I learned 3 car seats fit in the backseat of my Jeep. That gave me the tiniest bit of hope. And when discussing the kind of vehicle I wanted with my friend, I mentioned that a sedan was totally fine if the kids would all fit...

He pulled around the Optima, and I test drove it and wanted it as badly as Silas wants everything he sees at Target.

Now, seeing as I am entirely too transparent on this blog, you already know that I have been struggling with my credit for some time. And I had no one to cosign for me if that was necessary. I have been working very hard to improve my credit score, but I didn't really know where I stood. Honestly, I had driven to the dealership in a state of severe anxiety because I didn't think I was going to be able to get out of the Jeep, and I knew Michael was going to be less than thrilled, and we were probably going to have many ugly words, and every time I fight with him, I end up getting so worked up that I vomit, and, hello, that sounded awful.

Imagine my complete joy when the manager came over 15 minutes after I gave them my terms and told me he had gotten me exactly what I wanted. There was no nonsense where they came back to me with completely ridiculous terms or told me they couldn't do it without a cosigner. Just a handshake and some paperwork. I have never had such a painless experience at a car dealership.

And now I have a vehicle I love, love, love that gets 36 mpg (as opposed to 18) and no one is on the loan but me. No one can bother me about it. I'm not building someone else's credit. It is mine...or will be once I make 40 million car payments.

So, to wrap this up and go deal with my kitchen, stuff is going well 'round here. Hope things are good in your neck of the woods as well!