Month: October 2007

  • Artistic integrity

    Here’s an example of what happens when I’m sick.

    I am weak.

    And defenseless.

    I got out the paints and made her promise not to paint the bottoms of her feet. For some reason she thinks painting the bottoms of her feet is the utmost in artistic expression.

    Needless to say, I have learned the hard way that it is a lot of work to clean painted footprints off hardwood floors.

    To her credit, she followed my instructions and did not paint her feet.

    Tomorrow is a school day. I think that’s for the best.

  • 1492: the year Columbus discovered America or the number of times I was sick last night

    Last night, when I wrote that post about my stomach virus, I had no idea that the worst was yet to come. I have never in my life been so sick.

    Before I had Caroline I hadn’t had a stomach virus in probably 10 years. Now, I average one every 6 months. Having a child is the equivalent of having one of those African monkeys that spread rampant disease.

    Except my child is potty-trained and not from Africa.

    I woke up this morning around 9:30. P got up with Caroline and mercifully, let me sleep in. Since the head of our bed is right against the wall to our master bath, no one knew better than him what a horrendous night I had. Every now and then throughout the night, he’d call out, “Do you need anything?”

    Yes. A better immune system.

    And new intestines.

    And some Phenegran.

    Maybe a mallet to put myself out of my misery.

    However, those things are hard to come by at 3:30 a.m.

    Anyway, I stumbled into the living room this morning feeling as if I’d been run over by a bus and then a truck. P took one look at me and said, “You look awful”.

    I do. I look awful.

    It would seem that the evening’s festivities caused me to break little blood vessels all over my face, especially around my eyes. Caroline said, “OH MAMA! You have the chicken pox”.

    I should be so lucky. The chicken pox would look good compared to what is going on in my facial area.

    I have some major complexion issues that don’t appear to be subsiding as the day goes on. Picture deep red freckles all over my face and then multiply the hideousness of that image by 1,000.

    Needless to say, I have had happier Columbus Day celebrations.

    Caroline had the day off school so I had envisioned spending Columbus Day building small scale models of the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria while giving her a rich history lesson of Columbus and his amazing voyage across the ocean way back in 1492.

    Or, I thought we could go to Target.

    Neither of those things came to pass.

    Instead, Caroline spent the morning with P. They made bullets in the backhouse, because that’s what little girls do.

    Around lunchtime she came inside and wanted a bowl of oatmeal for lunch. I figured I could power through making a bowl of oatmeal. I lovingly microwaved the oatmeal and set it in front of her, while desperately trying not to get sick. She took one look at it and said, “That looks BISGUSTING. Did you throw up in this bowl?”

    And I wondered if I could trade her in for one of those monkeys from Africa.

    But instead, had P take her over to Mimi’s house for the rest of the day. Thank God for Mimi.

    I went back to bed and slept for 3 hours because I was too sick to even watch T.V.

    Let your brain wrap around the seriousness of that statement.

    On the plus side, in yesterday’s comments, Leslie reminded me of a line from “The Devil Wears Prada”, “I’m just a stomach flu away from my goal weight”.

    I’m well on my way. Especially since I only ate 2 Saltines today. If I keep this up I’ll be able to go into the holiday season with a 5 pound deficit. That way, when I gain 10 pounds from eating all the pie, I’ll still just be 5 pounds on the plus side.

    But I must be on my way to recovery because I’m actually starting to think about a cheeseburger from Whataburger. For some reason, this is my cure-all. When I had morning sickness with Caroline, I knew that a Whataburger cheeseburger with extra mustard would ease my misery.

    And no, I am definitely not pregnant. I just enjoy the healing properties of mustard.

    With a side of fries.

  • The gift that was delayed, but now keeps giving

    Remember about a week and a half ago when Caroline had that stomach virus? And we were up most of the night?

    I never got sick, so I breathed a huge sigh of relief that I had dodged the proverbial bullet.

    Apparently, the bullet circled the circumference of the earth and has now promptly hit me between the eyes, or the stomach as the case may be.

    Stomach virus.

    Bad stomach virus.

    And remember how Caroline was so cheerful and upbeat the whole time?

    She doesn’t get that characteristic from her mama.

    I’m pretty sure I’m about to die.

  • Episode 5: big boo cast

    Oh, yes ma’am. It’s another podcast. Honestly, I have no idea what we discuss this week, but I know it is chockfull of valuable information. Or not.

    bigboobuttonsm.jpg

    Listen on the blog here:

    Subscribe via iTunes here.

    Subscribe via RSS feed here.

    And here are links for some of the topics / products we mention:

    The Cat’s Pajamas

    Williams-Sonoma’s Pumpkin Spice Quickbread

    Old Navy’s Camp Shirts

    The Swing Coat We Cannot Afford But Love Just The Same

    Beth Moore on “Life Today”

    Y’all have a great weekend!

  • Four score and seven years ago

    Yesterday, as I drove Caroline to school, I told her, “Tomorrow is Daddy’s birthday”.

    She asked, “How old is he going to be?”

    “Thirty-seven.”

    “OHHHH, FORTY-SEVEN!!!”

    Why does she feel the need to prematurely age her parents by a decade? What have we ever done to her other than provide unconditional love and a steady supply of York Peppermint Patties?

    Later in the day she asked, in a voice filled with concern, “Will Daddy still be able to wrestle with me even though he’s 47?” And I assured her that, in spite of his rapid approach to AARP membership, Daddy will still be able to wrestle.

    Happy Birthday P. May you have many more years of getting knee-drops in the chest from your daughter. She is a delicate flower.

    You’ve taught her well.

    And you look great for 47. Love you.

  • Edition 3: Fashion Friday

    Let me start today with a disclaimer. This post is for the ladies. Of course, if all 3 of my male readers are like P, they moved on as soon as they saw the word fashion.

    If not, here’s your chance. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

    I believe I have mentioned that I am a fan of Tim Gunn’s new show entitled, appropriately enough, “Tim Gunn’s Guide to Style”. Tim is a kind, gentle fashion authority. He honestly wants to help women look good and feel better about themselves. He doesn’t mock the fashion impaired, but instead offers them assistance.

    Sometimes, he even cries.

    And gasps at the mention of leggings.

    And describes a closet full of capri pants and t-shirts as “self-flagellation”.

    Love him.

    One of the critical moments of Tim’s show (because yes, we are on a first name basis) is when his sidekick, Veronica, tells the women she needs to go through their underwear drawer.

    I am not even kidding when I say that the first time I saw this I hid my face in a pillow to muffle the screaming.

    I was mortified. Mainly because all I could think about was the shameful things Tim and Veronica would see if they were to go through my underwear drawer. I have underwear that attempted to see me through my pregnancy, and thus bid a fond farewell to elastic years ago. Yet I still wear them.

    I have bras that are older than Caroline. Bras that should have been retired long ago after years of faithful support and gravity defiance.

    But I haven’t been able to let go, mainly because I don’t want to think about replacing them.

    I know some women love shopping for undergarments, but I don’t know these women. It’s not something I enjoy spending money on. It grieves me to spend money on a bra when it would be much better spent on something of value, like dishtowels from Anthropologie.

    However, the reason Tim and Veronica go through the underwear drawer is because good undergarments are the key to clothes that fit well. A good bra can help eliminate that upper back fat spillage over the band.

    Well, a good bra and cutting out the Hostess cupcakes. But you get my point.

    It can lift and separate and cause you to instantly look 5 pounds thinner. What else can do that? Other than a mirror at a carnival or hallucinations?

    Inspired by “Guide to Style”, I set out for Nordstroms’ today with Caroline. Nordstrom stores have professional bra-sizing specialists in their lingerie department, so I went in and got measured. Just as I suspected, like 98% of the female population, I have been wearing the wrong size.

    The helpful saleslady took my measurements, assessed my bra needs, and then went in search of several different options.

    I bet I tried on at least 20 different bras, which was no easy feat with Caroline climbing in and out of the dressing room the whole time and intermittently watching herself dance in the mirror.

    The saleslady helped me figure out exactly what I needed and her opinion was much more helpful than Caroline’s, whose only opinion was that I should buy the “HOT PINK ONE, MAMA!”

    Like I’m in the market for a hot pink bra.

    That bra would require a different life. A life filled with Cosmopolitans and leisure time.

    So, here’s what I learned today:

    1. When you purchase a new bra, the band should fit snugly when fastened on the loosest hook setting. All bras lose their elasticity over time and this will allow you to fasten it tighter as time and saggage take their toll on the elastic.

    2. Do not handwash bras in Woolite. Apparently, Woolite is like Kryptonite to brassieres. I had no idea. Either wash them on gentle cycle in a mesh bag and hang to dry or handwash them using regular laundry detergent.

    3. The right bra will look and feel so much better than the bra you’ve been wearing. Especially if it’s a bra that carried you through the fluctuations of pregnancy and is the consistency of a moth-eaten dishtowel with underwire.

    So, ladies. Go forth and support the girls that are closest to you. They are the only one you’ll ever have.

    Well, unless you spring for saline upgrades.

    Now a few questions:

    1. Nicole asks: “What are your favorite shoes when you’re going for comfort? We’re taking a trip to Disney World in a couple weeks & I’m trying to decide on footwear. I’ll be wearing mostly capris & knee-length shorts. I don’t want to wear tennis shoes unless I have to, but my flimsy Ann Taylor Loft flip flops aren’t going to work for miles and miles of walking! I need comfy, yet cute and stylish.”

    This is my daily dilemma. I love a pretty shoe, but pretty and practical don’t always go hand in hand.

    Personally, if I were going to Disney World and wanted to be comfortable, I’d probably go with my Nike running shoes. They aren’t the cutest things in the world and I certainly wouldn’t set the fashion world on fire, but I also wouldn’t set my feet on fire.

    And seriously, if you’ve ever been to Disney World then you know what I’m saying when I tell you that fashion is not the priority for most patrons. It’s like one big fashion don’t. You’ve never seen so many black socks paired with sandals in all your life, not to mention an appalling lack of female support garments. Apparently some folks like to let it all hang loose for Mickey Mouse.

    My point is, wear what’s comfortable and won’t cause you to want to cut off your feet by noon. If you’re looking for a comfortable flip-flop with good support, I would suggest Reef flip-flops. They are the only kind I wear and have never caused me one ounce of foot discomfort, even after a day at Sea World.

    2. Mandy asks: “Was I on something, or did I see Seven jeans at Kohl’s? Another question for Friday or whenever…What type of unders do we wear with yoga pants? I have just gone for the velour in the past, but I want to move on for a more yoga-type. I don’t like dental floss…is that my only option?”

    I believe that you must have been on something.

    In all fairness, there is a cheap brand of jeans called “Sevens”, but one quick try-on will confirm that they are imposters. The key is to make sure they say “For all mankind”. Because the real Sevens are an inclusive jean.

    As for underwear under yoga pants, I don’t think you have to wear something that skimpy if you don’t want to. Just make sure it’s something with a smooth line. Visible underwear lines are not your friend.

    I don’t really wear my yoga pants tight enough for it to be an issue. I like a loose fit that ensures any problem areas won’t be accentuated because wearing a girdle with yoga pants would defeat the whole purpose.

    And make me angry. Very angry.

    3. Suzi asks: “So I’m lost are you are real fashion expert or do you just have terrific taste?”

    I am not a real fashion expert. I just play one on the blog.

    But thanks for the compliment about my taste.

    That’s all for this week.

    I have more questions waiting in my inbox that I promise I’ll get to eventually, but I also have a child who needs to bring something that starts with “C” for show and tell today. And, as God is my witness, I will come up with something better than the “cap” from the toothpaste.

    Y’all have a nice Friday!