Sunday, September 20, 2009

Setting the scene with the happy couple

They told me that were they to print a picture to hang on their wall, it would most likely be of the vineyard itself rather than of the two of them or of any of the guests there (sorry guests). I am out to prove them wrong, however I did make sure to get some scenery shots, just in case.

Oh, and the music? I just put it on because I get a kick out of it.

From the archives

I can't believe we are approaching a year of Little L. There are so many images in the archives that I haven't gotten around to yet, not to mention her birth announcement! Wow. Maybe tomorrow I'll get that done. Ha!

Be happy for this moment.

This moment is your life.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

"Momma, he said I am a baby..."

she whined as she came walking dejectedly toward me from the jungle gym.

"Well, ARE you a baby? " I asked.


"Well then, what does it matter? If he can't see that you are most definitely NOT a baby, if he can't see that you don't crawl around wearing diapers and drooling, then he obviously has limited mental capabilities. Now go play."

It is hard to take insults from other children sometimes, to be able to look at the situation objectively and really see what is going on. It is hard to do as an adult at times also, but the best way to teach your children is by example.

So, when the crazed lady came up to Mister and I at McDonald's the other night, spewing insults about how fat and ugly I am and how Mister is obviously controlled by me, and how I really need to get to Jenny Craig because don't I know how fat and ugly I am?? (all because I dared to come up to her and interrupt her conversation with a man to tell her one of her four children who she'd left unattended in the play area for over an hour, was now BITING the other children in there, mine included), Mister and I just stared at her. We stared and stared, then started grinning as we watched her get more and more upset because no matter what insult she threw at us she got absolutely no response. No sucking in of air, no flicker of rage on the face, nothing... except for a couple of squinty eyes and a slow smile.

After what seemed like 10 minutes she finally gave up on her tirade and marched out of there, stopping to tell the father of the other bitten child to stay the expletive out if it, White Boy (which was not exactly an insult, as he WAS white... and so was she).

Later G told me, "Momma, that lady MUST have been mentally challenged. You're not fat. You're not ugly. Why was she so mad anyway?"

I told G that that lady was probably just embarrassed about her child's behavior and didn't know what to do about it, so she decided to yell. So silly, huh, G? Yes, she said. Maybe she needs to go see that lady Jenny Craig.

Maybe, indeed.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Being Ugly

"Quit bein' ugly!"

The first time I heard this phrase, G was bout 2 and I was picking her up from her daycare provider's house. One of the other kids was intentionally hogging all of the Hot Wheels and hiding the ones he couldn't play with under couch cushions so the other little kids couldn't play with them. It wasn't a new behavior for this boy... he did this type of thing with great frequency. But still...

"Oh my gosh!" I thought to myself, "What an AWFUL thing to say! Calling a child ugly! Horrible!"

After Little Guy was born, I started to understand. All of the sudden my sweet G had a green mean streak hiding underneath those shiny blonde curls. Yes, 98% of the time, she just loooooved her brother, but that other two percent. Oh that other two percent. That was just plain ugly. And that is when it hit me. It's not that G was actually ugly her own self, she was just ACTING ugly; and as we all know, beauty comes from within.

So heed this warning, little children: If you act ugly for long enough, it just might just catch up with you one day, no matter how beautiful your exterior starts out. And when it does, you start just .... bein' ugly.

Saturday, September 5, 2009


So I am going to start by telling you that this post has no point, really. No great ending to the story, no ending really at all, just a bunch of self-indulgent drivel that you probably don't have time to read anyway, but yesterday was just so random that I had to share it with you.

It started when I was trying to get some pictures edited. I shot a bazillion at the wedding and although I have finished editing a few, I am still in the sorting process with the rest of them. A bazillion files take a lot of time to sort. So there I am, slowly sorting files, because those bazillion files are now eating up memory on the computer and making it move very s l o w l y... which is bad for file sorting, but really good for Bejeweled Blitz as it stretches that minute into a minute and a half, allowing me to finally get past 100k on the thing.

Back to file sorting... I love all of the pictures. Really, truly. They are fab. I have lots of work ahead of me. And I am still working on MissE's and Susyj's pics also, as well as my own. Sheesh.

So it is 9 am and I remember that I have told my friend K that I'd go to Michael's with her that day, as I have 3 coupons for there and I really like to go places with K because a) she's cool and fun and b) she has a minivan so I don't have to drive. I don't like to drive.

I call K and she comes and picks my sorry tush up and we go to Michael's and have a grand time picking out things for her daughter's birthday party. I, too, have a basketful of goodies, mostly Martha Stewart crafts that I have a 25% off coupon for in my purse... or so I think.

Come to checkout time, I have the 40 percent off coupons for K, but brought next week's flyer for myself instead of this weeks (which has the MS coupon in it), so I leave my basket there, telling the Zac Efron look-a-like that was manning the checkout that I will be back later in the day to get the stuff, knowing that there is only a slim chance that I will actually return. I did, however, pick up the Knifty Knitter Loom for G (per my mom's suggestion), some super soft yarn and a package of retro iron ons that rang up for one penny. I didn't realize I have no idea how to use such a loom until I got home. I am sure YouTube will rescue me on that front.

I get back home and show K all of the tomatoes that are growing in the garden. We have at least 100 on the three plants, but for some reason, they never turn red. The yellow teardrop ones yellow on the vine, but the others remain green. 4 of the 15 we have in the kitchen are turning red now, though. The others are destined for fried green tomatoes I suppose. Must scavenge a recipe for that. Please note, I cannot take the credit for any of the garden bounty. That is all Mister's doing. I only came up with the seeds for him to plant.

K goes to pick up her little man from preschool, so I get back to sorting the files, thinking to myself oh man I need to got to the bathroom, but I am all the way in the basement, so I shall hold it. Then the baby is hungry, then back to sorting, then Jezabelle is hungry... I can tell by her yelping and howling that is now echoing throughout the neighborhood. I go out to feed her and see that her pen really needs a good hosing off, only to find that the hose to the hose winder thingy has sprung free, and each time I try to replace it I get sprayed with water and create a huge pool of muck. And I cannot get the hose off of the hose winder thingy to hook directly up to the faucet, either. Oh, man I still have to pee. Lots of water splashing around. No good. Mosquitoes have now found me and I am quickly becoming their Friday Afternoon Brunch Buffet. Mental note: Gotta get some more Revolution for the dogs.

Now there is water spurting everywhere, I am drenched and just barely able to refrain from pissing myself, being eaten by mosquitoes, barked at by dogs, cried at by babies and still cannot find a hose. I look up... there is one.. Finally.

Dog is clean and watered and fed, I am drenched, I sit back down with the baby on my lap to continue sorting when I realize that I have to get to the bus stop to pick up G. Oh and I still have to pee. I run upstairs, finally hit the bathroom, carry baby on my hip down to get G from the bus stop, barely making it in time. G tells me that the Boys Across the Street have invited her and Tyge over. THANK GOODNESS. We wait for their call. G collects all the phones in the house so that she can have at least one with a good battery withing her grasp when the fateful call comes in.

At 4 pm, the phone rings. At last. There is much hollering and goodbying and the two olders fly out the door. I am nursing baby on the couch now, watching Jamie at home BBQ on his antique rotisserie the has "made his culinary year" thinking that looks tasty, but I am totally off meat at the moment and cannot think of a veggie that would be as good to BBQ. Baby falls asleep on my lap and I fall asleep, too, knowing that if I move her she will wake up and I will be miserable. I wake 15 minutes later to Tyler Florencce making margaritas and fajitas. Hmmm, that sounds good. I have all the fixings for that if I could jest get the baby down without waking her up... NO GOOD. Nurse her back to sleep again.

Now the TV switches to Oprah, who has a recipe special on and some guy is making Key Lime Pie. Mmm that sounds good, and looks easy to make. Kids are gone, I can run over to the grocery real fast and get the ingredients and have it cooked in time for Mister to take to the football game.

I call across the street to let them know I am going to the store, and then I set off. My list : Key Lime juice, sweetened condensed milk, organic graham crackers. I find all of my ingredients quickly... the lime juice is organic and in the clearance bin for $1.99! I am so meant to make this pie. The grahams are a bit trickier, but the Annie's Bunnies are on sale and I can just grind them up, right? And chocolate chip ones would be even better, right? Oooh and look! They have a 6 pack of Fat Tire! On Sale! Sweet! AND Guacamole Corn Chips. It was Meant To Be.

Home I go. Small children come running telling stories about mud pies and I immediately send them upstairs to bathe. On to the graham crushing.

How many bunnies to crush, exactly? A whole box is good, I suppose. Doesn't look like enough. Oh well, add the two sticks of butter anyway. Mister has taken the olders and left to Tennessee by now. Little Guy was not supposed to go along, but decided to go at the last minute. I packed him a bag, he changed out of his Florida Gators tee (at his dad's insistence - I say he just wants to represent the WINNERS) and off they went. See ya! Baby is asleep in the crib this time. Ahh, think I'll have a Fat Tire now.

OK, added the two melted sticks of butter, but the combination does not look like wet sand like it did on Oprah... more like brown mud. Oh well, pour it into a pie pan and bake it anyway, it will harden up, right? And after one full Fat Tire ale, the remnants of the chocolate chip graham-butter mud are VERY tasty. On to the pie filling. And the guacamole chips and salsa. Oh so tasty.

Darn, ran out of salsa. Will Ro-Tel and lite Ranch dressing be a good substitute? Call my cousin from New Mexico. Get no answer. Go ahead and try it anyway. BAD IDEA. Salsa is in jars for a reason- so it doesn't taste like tin. Blech. I dump out the Ro-Tel ranch mixture and go on to carrots and ranch instead. Much better. The crust is bubbling now... Hmm, odd. Well, better get to beating those eggs and the milk and whatnot. 15 minutes later, the pie filling is ready, but the crust is still... bubbly. And starting to smell a bit burnt.

I pull it out of the oven and dump the filling in. It immediately sets up. Oops. I was supposed to let that crust, cool first. Now I have Key Lime Scrambled Egg Pie. Whatever, I am two Fat Tires into it now, might as well forge on. I put the pie-egg-scramble in the oven and bake it. It rises? That is strange, it was supposed to be a custard. Well, the vanilla whip cream that I have made is tasty anyway.. and it will cover the entire top of the "pie" so no one will notice, right?

Half a Fat Tire later and the "pie" is in the fridge, the baby is awake, and I am falling asleep.

I have a headache today. But, I have had half of the "pie" and although the crust is like chiseling chocolate graham marble, and the "filling" is very much reminiscent of those dried scrambled eggs they serve at continental breakfasts at the Holiday Inn, it tastes pretty decent.

I meant to do lots of work today. I awoke with the best intentions. But all I've been able to do is type this blog post and take care of the baby. The Vols won. I talked to Mister on his way home. The kids forgot top put underwear on today. I am renaming them both Britney. That's how we do it here in the south. Ding Dang.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

good morning...

Way before I've had my coffee, when my body is still heavy from sleep and I don't want to move a muscle for fear of disturbing the perfect comfort that I feel in the earliest dawn of consciousness every morning, this is the deliciousness that greets me.

good morning.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

hot child in the city

Once, when Sex and the City was still making new shows, Carrie was walking down the sidewalk wearing a pouffy, high-waisted skirt and Jimmy Choos, and the song that accompanied her during this sassy sashay was "Hot Child in the City" by Pat Benetar. It was the very first time I had ever heard the tune, and I immediately loved it like a dog loves Jerky Treats.

Well, a few weekends ago I did a shoot with Young MissE, and while I was picking out her outfit the song was running through my head. MissE, you see, is a very sweet kid, who has a strong sense of self and a style that I think rocks. She also happens to be a very smart young lady... and a girl who my kids all adore. I can only hope they turn out to be as good a teenager as she is.

Here is your sneak peek MissE...