entering a giveaway

Heart Smiles GIVEAWAY
ok, i'm super excited to introduce you to one of the cutest etsy shops ever, Heart Smiles. check out the darling hats!! they're so dang cute! if i had a little girl, i would have a closet full of these lovely hats. some serious eye candy here for ya. i am so jealous of all you with little girls right now!!

Abbie, the shop owner, uses only super soft cotton yarn for each hat so that they are comfy for the little ones.


ok, let's have some fun and do a giveaway! one super lucky reader is going to win a hat of their choice from Heart Smiles.

Mandatory Entry: Visit Heart Smiles and leave a comment telling me the name of your fav hat(s). Please include your email address!

After you've done that, you may get additional entries:

Purchase something from Heart Smiles (2 entries, will be confirmed)

Become a FB fan of Heart Smiles (1 entry)

Blog about this awesome giveaway, please leave a link (1 entry)

Tweet about this giveaway, please leave the link (1 entry)

Follow Craftaholics Anonymous (1 entry)

For each entry, you will need to leave a separate comment on this post.





giveaway will end on thursday, March 4 at 11:59PM EST. Winner will be chosen by random.org.

good luck!!

Why I Blog

I was recently "challenged" on my blogging style.  Told that my monologuing  perhaps contained things that shouldn't be out there for everyone to see.  While my feelings were deeply wounded, it has lead me to serious reflection and this is what I have come up with. 

There are various types of blogging.  Some teach you how to do something (I love Craftaholics Anonymous).  Chris belongs to blogs of discussion (for the intellictually gifted).  There are the blogs that give you snippits into someone's daily life (many of my friends, and family members).  Some choose to share the funny moments (think diaper in the dryer).  In my blog, I have chosen to share who I am. 
                                                           My kids are a part of that.

My husband is a part of that.

(isn't he cute?!!)

My education, my employment, my experiences, my family.

(this is minus several key members of the family (ie, Chad's family and my mom and dad)

They are all a part of why I have become who I am.

So how has that all come together?  So many random thoughts run through my head daily, each minute, and it feels SO good to have an outlet for it.  All you other bloggers probably understand what I'm saying.  What goes into henrichsenheroes@blogspot.com is who I am.  I love that my grandchildren will be able to see a snippet who a part of me really is.  It's so much funner than journalling because I can instantly add those visuals.   I'm not afraid to post pictures (I've got plenty of bad ones), because the good, the bad, it's all part of me.

 

(though, one should consider completely cleaning the makeup off if they are gonna go all natuRAL).

When you're reading some of those bits of randomness, I hope it allows you a little glimpse into who I am.  I am a complex individual with simple thoughts.

My Bubble

We all have it.  Some people's bubble are more pronounced.  Some...well, okay.  Not everyone has one.  I'm talking that space around you in which no one must infringe.  My Grandma Curtis's is a rather large bubble.  You can just see the uncomfortable tenseness in her face (and feel it in her whole body) as you hug her.  Then there's a cousin I have where everytime I see her (it's been...wow!  5 years) she comes towards you with a full body hug.  That's when I turn into my grandmother.  I hug back..that's the thing you're supposed to do.

You see this box?  Consider it my personal bubble.  When people get closer than that, I feel the muscles in my body start going rigid.  What am I supposed to do?  Do I tactfully back up?  Do I turn my head and pretend to be distracted by a child running down the hall?  Do I pretend that that child is actually mine?  All this is running through my head while none of conversation with my bubble invader is being absorbed. 

Another space invader?  Someone in my yard.  A couple kids were "cutting" through the field across the street to me.  It would cut 10 minutes off their walk to the river.  They were caught by a neighbor who gave them a stern reprimand and those kids sulked away.  Keep in mind, this is an unused field.  Growing up on quite a large range, there were many strangers who desired to "test our waters" or hunt for wild animals (the only thing wild on our property were the kids), or see what was up the mountain.  Anytime someone stepped foot onto our property, I would again feel the muscles in my body start going rigid.  I glued myself to a window, with the phone in my hand, ready to call whatever authorities that could take care of this trespasser. 

Humans are a funny thing.  My husband doesn't quite get my issues.  But, like most animals in the kingdom, we have our territories.  And while I haven't "marked" it so to speak, don't think that my claws won't come out if need be.

Mrs. Christopher Henrichsen?!!

Let me be the first to tell you....I HATE being called "Mrs. Christopher Henrichsen!"  Don't get me wrong.  I love being married.  I love being married to Christopher Henrichsen, but, I, am not Christopher Henrichsen.  I am Lyndee Marie Curtis Henrichsen.  My name is who I am.  I have a long history of greatness in my family that has been woven into what makes me....Me!

I am fun, playful, creative, thoughtful, and sensitive.  I love going on adventures with my family, making gifts, and serving when and where I can.  But I am not Chris.  We do share some common interest, but we are two seperate people who seem to have two seperate roles in our family.  We didn't make a list and divide it up.  We just do it naturally.  I am so glad I married Chris, and I was a better person the day I married him.  But, next time you send us a Christmas card or a wedding invitation, remember to address it: Chris and Lyndee Henrichsen....or better yet, Lyndee and Christopher Henrichsen.

Shem....what can I say about Shem?

Shem....when you meet him, you will know what I'm talking about.  There is no one in this world like my Shem.  When I tell people he's obsessed with the military, they often look at their own childhood, think of themself, think of their brothers, maybe even think of their own sons and they invaritable say to me, "Soandso was just like that when he was Shem's age."  Well....let me set the record straight.  There may be similarities, but all who know Shem can attest, there is NO ONE like Shem.

This is the kid who refused to put on a swimsuit at the splashpark.  In fact, he would refuse to put on t-shirts and shorts ALL summer long.  We would have to refuse him access to the outside world until he could at least conform to short sleeves.  The little stink would come back with a terribly clevor retort, "But then my arms won't be protected and I'll get burned."  This, with tears streaming down his cheeks.

Part of me feels like I should have seen this coming.  He's been dressing up as some sort of warrior since he was just a year old.  I have a picture of him in nothing but a diaper, a pasta drainer on his head (every good soldier needs a helmit), and a makeshift sword in his hands.  I was the parent who would never buy a toy gun--I despise guns!  Oh, but what I didn't realize was that ANYTHING could be a gun.  Oh, yes, everything is a gun.  My spatula turned into a sword, my dishes into armor.  I didn't stand a chance.

Now, I'm adapting to the reality that is mine.  My son is obsessed.  He wants to be a soldier.  It might be a long road, but we'll get him there.  But first, I've gotta get him a mission.

4th grade-A Defining Year

Geneva has preschool every Tuesday and Thursday.  I've chosen to use that time to help out in Todd and Shem's classroom.  On Tuesday, I head to Shem's class.  Sweet, innocent, 2nd graders.  On Thursday, I go to Todd's class; loud, boy/girl crazy, FUN 4th graders.  Todd tells me he's the only one in ALL of 4th grade who does not have a Valentine.  Then he does his chuckle (a cocky sorda noise) and says, "But that's because I haven't asked anyone."  This is the 1st year the having a Valentine actually meant something.  This is the year you actually have to preread the Valentines you send out, because you don't want just ANY kid in the class thinking you want to be their Valentine.  I remember 4th grade so vividly.  There was one boy in my class, my cousin actually, who "had fleas."  I cringe just thinking back on it.  I usually was pretty good and not joining in on the chatter, but I remember one day he was walking into the classroom, and I hid behind the door with two others girls so we wouldn't get fleas.   To this day, I haven't forgiven myself for doing this.  Now, Todd's class is repeating my cycle and I will NOT let myself repeat the cycle.  There's one boy that seems to get the brundt of all the teasings.  Mind you, he DOES do gross things.  In fact, I laugh before I've had a chance to even say it, last week I was sitting on the lunch table with this boy and was trying to get my own son to join me...he wouldn't.  THE SHAME!!!!  He said, "Mom, I've seen for myself what he does in the bathroom."  Now, you're all probably thinking what I was thinking.  He whispered to me, just make sure you wash your hands when you leave.  Turns out, this boy had been splashing toilet water at other kids.  Yes, gross.  But there is a reason he does this.  I told Todd he just wants attention and the only time he seems to get it is when he does these gross things.  I told him, give him attention when he's doing good stuff so he doesn't have to resort to the toilet...or licking other kids...or well, you get it.  Todd discovered that this boy doesn't do gross things to you when you're his his friend, so he and his best friend asked him if they could be his friend.  Why do I tell this story?  I'm seeing how difficult it is to be a 4th grader.  This is when popularity starts becoming important (anybody else have cheerleader tryouts in 4th grade so we could cheer for the boys playing football at recess?).  This is when identities are forming.  This is when we start turning into little grown-ups.  I hope my little grown-up turns into a good grown-up; one who cares about others...one who feels like making fun of others is a waste of his time...one who would never make someone cry on purpose...Am I that kind of person?  Oh, I sure hope so.