Craigslist

Dear Craigslist.com,

I love you. I wish we had been introduced years and years ago. However, we only met half way through law school through a friend of a friend. If I can sum up our relationship in a few words: You make me want to be a better shopper.

Take our second car, for example, which we found through you. Who knew there was a nice, young Yugoslav man just a few miles away in Richmond wanting to get rid of his old, (yet trustworthy) Camry? It was you, Craigslist, who brought us together. And we are a happier family because of it.

Not only do you let me buy things, you let me sell things as well. When I don't want to bother with the hustle and bustle that is a garage sale, you let me have my own little online garage sale. And our house is cleaner because of it.

This last family weekend was made possible though you, my friend. After spending some time with you over the past month I came across a fantastic little bike trailer for our daughter, Makenna. This was not "some crap you'll find at Walmart" (as quoted on your ad). It was a well-made, aluminum alloy, brightly colored, steal-of-a-deal, worth much more than we paid for it.

Because of you we were able to use the bikes we bought years ago and haven't used since Makenna was born. Because of you we took a little jaunt over to Lake Accotink and went off-road biking with our trusty little trailer being pulled behind. Because of you, our little girl had mud splattered across her face and clothes by the end of our journey. Because of you, my lower half was so sore on Sunday I couldn't sit down to teach my Primary class. And because of you, we have the fortune of a summer filled with family bike rides, great pictures, and lasting memories.

To you I say thank you. I look forward to a strong, meaningful and enduring relationship for years to come.

Devotedly yours,

Kara Mann

March Madness

March was one of those crazy months. We had family from both sides come in and stay with us over their spring breaks. We toured D.C., hung out with the butterflies at the Nat. History Museum (coolest thing ever), frequented the National Zoo, played board games until the wee hours of the morning, took advantage of free babysitting, and had fun watching my mom take the house on her first time ever playing Texas Hold 'Em. After all this, my creative juices have temporarily run dry. Hence, the brief post accompanied by a rockin' slide show.

Enjoy...

Pay It Forward Follow-Up

 

Last week I received a darling package from Janica from her Pay It Forward Giveaway. She made a super-cute apron (that I have already worn and feel very crafty in), a decoupaged recipe card-holder, and a stack of personalized recipe cards. I LOVE them all!

Now I just need to get cracking on MY Pay It Forward homemade goodies for Amy, Christy, and Kristin. Hmmmm...

Little Birdie's Wing Has Healed

I have so many pictures to post and so many stories to reminisce about, but first things first. THE CAST HAS COME OFF. I thought I'd do a little play-by-play for those interested. These aren't the greatest pictures, but they'll convey the raw emotion of the experience.

First up... Makenna sporting her fashionable hot-pink cast in a variety of places (stairwell, kitchen cupboard). The emotion here is... Why me? A little self-pity with a lot of "look how cool my cast is."

Next we have the Mann girls three weeks after "The Fall" in the orthopedic surgeon's office getting the cast off. Our new friend Chaz did an excellent job with the vibrating saw.
The emotion here is... sheer terror with a little confusion. What will define me as cool without my awesome cast? And how will I defend myself in nursery from all the rowdy boys without my arm shield?

Here we have evidence of what magic a grape-flavored DumDum holds for a 20-month-old in a scary doctor's office. And (not for the faint-of-heart) the unearthing of what was underneath the hot pink cast... 3 gargantuan pins in her bone which they pulled out with real, unforgiving, metal pliers. They were NOT, and I quote, "tiny little wires which will slide right out without her even knowing it." For a 35-year veteran surgeon, you'd think she would know how to describe the outcome of her procedure. The emotion here is...Please let this all be a dream. But let my sucker be part of it.

And lastly, the temporary splint is back on, we've had the opportunity to shovel the dirt out of her arm crevices (TMI?), wash the whole limb down, and go out and play. The emotion here is... relief with a little bit of scheming. I think I'll milk this whole "owey on my arm" bit a little while longer.

And I say, Why not? She deserves it.