baby shower disaster

My good friend Sabrina and I went to a baby shower yesterday. It was one of those baby showers that are straight from Pinterest. Every last detail was handcrafted and adorable. I contemplated taking pictures to post on Pinterest several times. It was that cute. And just know, nothing that involves a baby is typically cute to me. The very thought of a baby makes me cringe.

Sabrina and I went over to the onesie decorating station. Yes, that’s a thing. The station was a small, square table covered in about 50 white onesies. We sat down across from each other and we both begin decorating with the provided paints and fabric markers. Sabrina reached to grab the teal paint and accidentally knocked over her entire glass of red punch. In doing so, she was able to single-handedly ruin the onesie station.

We apologized and made a quick exit. We plan to tie-dye the red blotchy onesies and bring them back to the mom-to-be. No harm no foul. They will be cuter this way anyway.

Honestly, I’m just glad it wasn’t me.

Blaire 🦋💙

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My workout rewards are flawed 

My main issue with working out is that I like to reward myself for a job well done. I know what you’re thinking, rewards are good because they will keep me motivated. You’re absolutely right. Well, you would be if I didn’t use a flawed reward system. 

Here’s 3 examples of how I fail at working out.

1) Yesterday, I completed a cardio workout on my treadmill and a kickboxing workout video. Afterwards, I jumped in my car and drove to Chick-fil-A. I ordered a number one with no pickles and a sweet tea. I remembered my great workout and found myself saying, “make that a large combo!” 

2) I woke up early on Monday to complete a work out. I reached my calorie burn goal for the day immediately following the work out, therefore I sat on my couch the rest of the day and watched Grey’s Anatomy reruns. 

3) Today, I completed an intense cardio workout, walked a mile, and did 50 squats and 50 sit ups. Now I feel like I should have tomorrow off since I did such a good job.

The struggle is real. 

Accept me for me,

Typical Blaire 💛

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What the heart wants ❤️


For starters, I wasn’t really that wild as an adolescent. Mainly because I was afraid of how my parents would react if I put even my pinky toe out of line. I figured they’d ship me off to boarding school, or the Christian Academy down the street like they threatened to do on a regular basis.

But, let’s face it, a girl can only stay well-behaved for so long at 15. I started to become attracted to the bad boys. I think it was because I thought they were everything I wasn’t or perhaps it was their hot attitude problems. Whatever it was, I ended up dating a guy named Franklin who was an absolute bad boy.
We were, uhh, quite the match. I got great grades and he beat up boys that looked in my direction too long. I went to field hockey practice and he smoked weed in the woods nearby. It was all fun and games till Franklin caught a felony and found himself in jail and then on house arrest.

Fast forward 10 years and now I’m married to a super attractive, loving cop named Ricky. Ricky follows the rules, obsesses over me, and stays calm in all situations. My 15 year old self never saw this shit coming and honestly, nor did I.

The heart wants what it wants,

Blaire 👮🏼❤️

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Hello, 2017 💜


I’ve been to loud rowdy clubs, I’ve danced on bars, and I’ve stayed long after last call. But now I’m 26 and I’m starting to get my life together, sorta.

This year I made the super mature decision to have a group of friends over with a variety of liquors that created an awesome night that I’ll never remember. && I’m more than okay with that.

From the comfort of my kitchen table, I was able to consume trashy shots, laugh till my stomach hurt, and enjoy the last bit of 2016 with the best people you’ll ever met.

2017, give me all you’ve got.

Blaire 🌸

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How to make jello-shots

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If you don’t know already, I suck at cooking. I think it is because instructions on the side of food items are not specific enough. I need to know all about cooking including how to turn on the oven. Growing up, we simply weren’t in the kitchen learning how to cook. I didn’t have a mommy and daddy that were around enough to teach me the small stuff.

Naturally, when I go to parties, I bring Jell-O shots. First of all, I am good at making them. I know you’re smiling right now because you realize that I’m good at it because I am a low-key alcoholic. But I will be darned, I can make some freaking Jell-O shots. Here’s how:

1) Go to your local liquor store and buy yourself inexpensive vodka. Make sure the vodka is flavored. Vodka that isn’t flavored will cause your jello to taste super nasty, trust me. I typically use Burnett’s. It is inexpensive and comes in every flavor imaginable. You might be thinking that Burnett’s is pretty trashy of me, but have you ever had a terrible night while drinking Burnett’s? Exactly. Burnett’s is never a bad idea, just causes a slight hangover when consumed in large amounts.

2) Go to the grocery store and buy several flavors of Jell-O. Yes, you can get the generic storebrand for under $.50. The Jell-O flavor really doesn’t matter. If you were going to beat yourself up over flavor, focus on the flavor of the vodka not the Jell-O. You will also need to buy small cups to put the finished product in. You can snag a bag of “Diamond Mini Cups Multi-Purpose” from your local Walmart. That’s what I use. (See above picture)

3) Boil 1 cup of water. Stir in one package of Jell-O mix once the water is to a boil. Continue stirring and remove the water from the heat. Make sure that the Jell-O is not sticking to the bottom of the pan. If the Jell-O sticks to the bottom, it will not allow the most flavor– be careful with that. Stir for exactly 2 minutes.

4) Pour in 1 cup of flavored vodka. Continue stirring for another minute or so.

5) Using a large spoon, scoop out the jello liquid and put it into the little containers.

6) Place all containers in the refrigerator overnight.

7) Serve at party and come off super fun and flirty. If you want to get fancy, serve with whip cream on top.

Jello-shots are the extent of my cooking.

Love always,

Blaire 🌷

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I sleep with stuffed animals

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I turned 26 years old this year– I have two degrees, a challenging job, and a good looking husband. And somehow, someway I still sleep nightly with 3 stuffed animals. Hello, daddy issues. Am I right? If you’re nodding your head and smirking right now then you’ve met someone crazy like me before. You’re probably thinking of a bat shit crazy ex-girlfriend or that wild best friend you had in college that you always knew was a little off.

I could sit down right now and tell you every little thing that has ever went wrong in my life and I still cannot account for my inability to put my stuffed animals in the past. My mom used to always joke that I wouldn’t give those stuffed animals up till the day I got married. Well, uhh, I have been married for years and still I sleep with them. Yes, they have names: Puffy, Puffilump, and Ruff. The first two were named when I got them on the day I was born. The third one was named by my drunk friend at a party.

Honestly and truly, I cannot begin to tell you why I can’t fall asleep without them. No, I do not believe they talk or have feelings. But, then again, I still get upset if I see one absentmindedly tossed on the floor.

Help?

Blaire 🎀

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