How I Spent my Fourth of July

Before I start this post let me tell you I am NOT crafty. I know how to purchase and package, not create. So when I was asked to make the camp journal for girls camp I of course thought of the hardest thing I could ever do and then tried to put it into action. Bestie tried to tell me it would be a lot of work. I did not listen. Knowing this...let me tell you the journal tail.

I decided on  journal Bestie had shown me last year. A handmade journal with all different types of paper and envelopes and such. Cute right??? Until you are SLAPPED in the face with the realization that there are 40+ pages in this journal plus cover pages. For 15 girls. That is 1000+ pieces of paper...so I cut....and cut....and cut

I then made the cover pages. 8 in each journal 15 wait wait 16 journals. It was at this time last night I remembered there were 16 not 15 girls and that now my math was all off. And while my neighbors enjoyed 4th of July festivities I was creating cover pages. 

These were the supplies I bought...because I am not crafty...and owned none of them. Not even a glue stick. 

Now these next two were taken 6 hours in. My table is a mess. Glasses are off. My head on the table. Asking "why did I not just get a Spider Man notebook and write journal on the outside". By this time I had listened to the new Beyonce album 3984579375394857 times. I was delirious. And I still had to make the covers, bind, and hand write on every page. Shoot me.

Midnight. Tired. Baby is mad at me. I start the covers and leave them on floor. Hopefully my hell dog does not pee on them. 

And then success. 5 more hours on Tuesday binding, writing and finishing covers. They are dropped off. There is a page in those journals that says "your favorite thing about camp". Someone best write "this sweet ass camp journal yo" or I will lose it.

Happy Birthday America

ps....i did it all for the girls. i love them and they deserve the best. but someone better say the camp journal is their favorite thing about camp. no i am just kidding. no i am not