It's hard to be ugly

This week is our holiday party at work. Next to the halloween party it's the only thing to look forward to there. 

I worked on my ugly Christmas sweater today.

It's hard to try and make something ugly, on purpose. 

But I did my best.

I started with lots of supplies

Sweat shirt, garland trees, snowflakes, cotton circles I cut from a sheets of sparkly cotton, branches for arms and a battery powered string of lights.

First step was to sew the snowman on and stuff him. It was much hard then I thought.

 Next I attached the trees and snowed on the snow flakes. I'm not much of a seamstress so I did cheat some and use safety pins to help. 

I also added some mini lights to the bottom to add some fun. 

 And finally the eyes and details.

It's a tad hard to tell but the one eye is drastically larger then the second and the uneven. Also the buttons are purple glitter.

UGLY! 

To each their own

Growing up it always seemed like my parents waited till the holidays to start home remodeling projects. And it irritated me. Things always turned into such a HUGE rush because of the pending holiday. 

One year we were ripping carpet out 3 days before thanksgiving and another year it was putting in a new bathroom. What a nightmare. Who does that. Who wakes up and says..." I don't feel adequately stressed out yet for the holidays I should destroy my house and rebuild it under a time crunch...that should help". Who does that. Apparently THIS GIRL! 

Seems only fitting right, following in my parents foot steps. 

Knock down a wall? Why not.

Cut holes in the ceiling? Why not.

Cover every surface on my first floor in layers of dust. Sure.

Not like I have anything else to do.

We finally made some more progress on our living remodel. 

But we are far from done.

STARTING POINT.

WE went From this to 

To this. And now

From one side to 

The other. 

Clearly you can see our house....is a mess. I won't even walk around without shoes on. And the only Christmas is the tree. All my decorations are packed up in the garage where they have been since we moved.

And it makes me sad.

And it makes me wonder what I was thinking.

And it makes me laugh.

And I think what a kick out of it my dad would get.

And that makes me laugh.

And then it makes me sad. Real sad. 

I am my parents child and everyday I see that more and more.

And. That. Makes. Me. HAPPY.