I’m sitting here at the pool sweltering in the heat and wondering why I thought it was such a good idea to bring my computer.

Truth be told, I was curious if our pool really had wi-fi or if they just made the claim because what kind of moron brings their computer to the pool?

Turns out, the wi-fi is for real.

So is the heat.

And, apparently, so is the moron.

I chose not to wear my bathing suit today because I am tired of the pool and all the chlorine. My hair is about the consistency of straw, except not as soft and silky.

Anyway, after Caroline’s swimming lesson is over, we are headed home to bask in the A/C. I may even break out the craft bag in my desperation to stay inside.

Nothing reeks of desperation more than the willing distribution of glitter and glue to someone whose life motto is if a little is good, then A LOT is even better.

My biggest issue with the heat, other than the fact that it causes me to walk around with a bright red face and foul temper, is that it makes me want to run far, far away from the kitchen. By the end of the day it is just too hot to live, much less cook.

I just want to get a spoon, a quart of Dreyer’s Peanut Butter Cup Ice Cream and call it a day.

There are two problems with this.

1. I would prefer to not gain fifty pounds over the course of the summer.

2. My people seem to want real food. With side dishes.

They are so demanding with all their “I’m hungry. What’s for dinner? Are we having hot dogs again?”

It takes all the joy out of my Dreyer’s Ice Cream.

Oh I kid. Nothing could really take the joy out of that. Because did I mention the chocolate and the peanut butter?

The problem is that when I look through my recipes and assorted cookbooks, nothing sounds good. Meatloaf in the summer is just wrong. Gravy in the summer seems unnatural. Frying something in hot oil seems redundant to the day I’ve already spent at the pool.

This is where y’all come in. I’m going to put up a Mr. Linky and would love it if you’d share your favorite summertime recipe on your blog and link it back here. If you don’t have a blog, then you can leave your recipe in the comments.

It doesn’t have to be sophisticated or complicated. In fact, the easier the better has always been my motto.

Not really, but it is now.

So, share the recipe love. Help a girl out.

Because, otherwise, P is going to ban me from buying anymore hot dogs at the HEB.

This Friday P and I are heading to Florida for a little vacation. One of our former students from Campus Life is getting married and he asked P to perform the ceremony.

In case y’all didn’t know, P is a true renaissance man. Not only can he landscape your yard, but he is also a licensed minister which comes in very handy for those folks who may want to increase the curb appeal of their home and renew their vows at the same time.

Happens all the time.

Anyway, we’ll be in Florida for several days. Days that will involve staying in a house right on the beach and sleeping in until whenever I dang well please.

I know I’ll miss Caroline but I honestly don’t think she’ll notice I’m gone, what with all the chocolate donut consumption and unlimited swimming that will take place at Mimi and Bop’s house.

So I’m going to have a lot of time to just relax and, if memory serves, there is nothing better to do while lying on the beach than to read a good book. I mean I’m bringing my computer with me, because it is a part of me with its happy little apple that glows at me night and day as if to say HELLO FRIEND!, but I don’t think computers and sand are a good mix, so I’ll need something for the beach.

I went to dinner with my Bible study group last night and we discussed a few good books. Actually, they discussed a few books and I just nodded my head because I haven’t read anything since the television writers came back from being on strike and who needs books when there are new episodes of “The Office”?

The girls talked about “The Red Tent” which is loosely based on the Bible story of Rachel and Leah. It is about how women would all congregate in the red tent during their time of the month. I haven’t read the book, but I think the red tent is a brilliant idea.

Why don’t we do that now? Why not throw us all in a hotel room somewhere with a bellman sliding constant trays of Ghiradelli Double Chocolate Brownies under the door? Just stock that room with some kleenex for all the irrational crying and a couple of cases of Midol. Oh! And maybe some of those sock’em bop’em giant foam bats like George and Weesie Jefferson hit each other with during that episode where they went to marriage counseling. We could all eat our chocolate, cry, and then beat the heck out of something with those bats to channel our inner hormonal rage.

That would be golden.

None of this is my point, by the way.

I need a few good books to take with me to Florida. The only catch is that I’m not really interested in learning anything. I’m looking for light reading that will make me laugh or cry or both over the course of a few days.

And I don’t like mysteries or anything scary.

I have enough of both residing in my refrigerator.

Since I’m asking y’all for book recommendations, I’ll give you one in return. The last book I read was “The Middle Place” by Kelly Corrigan. I adored this book. In fact, I wish I hadn’t read it yet so that I could read it on vacation. It’s the true story about the journey the author takes after being diagnosed with breast cancer at 37 years old with two young daughters, but it’s wrapped up in stories from her childhood and especially her relationship with her father. It’s beautiful.

So, now it’s your turn.

What do you suggest?

So, I have a little favor to ask of y’all today.

I am in need of some information but first I will share my thoughts on something very important.

I don’t know that there is a show on television that annoys me more than “CSI: Miami”. Unfortunately, P discovered it comes on at 10:00 every night and now I spend that hour trying to avert my eyes from the television lest I see dead people. It’s like my own private version of “The Sixth Sense”.

The problem is that no matter how much I look away, I can’t block out the bad dialogue. But on the plus side, P and I have both adopted the phrase, “It’s a little thing I like to call…MURDER ONE”, which we use completely out of context and at inappropriate times. It was uttered by David Caruso in a bit of acting that should be shown to acting students everywhere in a class called “How Not To Act”.

That has nothing to do with my favor, but it needed to be said.

In about two months, I’ll find myself standing in front of a group of people who would like to know more about blogs and I probably need to tell them more than “A blog is something that can be found on the internet. It is an online journal for all the world to see on this marvel they call the World Wide Web. People can access this World Wide Web by using a computer, which is an even better invention than the Brother Word Processor that I used in college.”

Because as thrilling as that presentation would be, it’s probably not the most critical piece of information unless I am talking to a group of people that have been cryogenically frozen since 1972.

Here’s where y’all come in. What questions would you ask about blogging if you could ask anything?

What would you want to know? Do you have any blog pet peeves? Did you start out blogging with a goal in mind or just for fun? How do you measure your blog’s success? Is it traffic, comments, or just writing something that you feel good about it?

I mean, I’m not saying that I have the answers. I would just like to be prepared for all the questions that may leave me standing at the front of a room looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

Which, if that happens, I’ll totally resort to my new phrase and say, “It’s a little thing I like to call…MURDER ONE.”

Because it always seems to work out well for David Caruso.

So, I’ve pretty much hit some kind of creative wall. Either that or life has become so boring in the last few days that I cannot figure out a way to make it interesting.

In fact, I told Boomama yesterday that if things don’t pick up I’ll either have to shut the blog down or start making stuff up.

Clearly, I’d choose option B and just make stuff up.

To give you an example of my outstanding lack of anything interesting to say, here is what we did this weekend:

1. I poured some vinegar into my bathroom sinks and let it soak to remove the hard water deposits.

Fascinating.

2. P revamped our outdoor illumination system and our home can now be seen from outer space. The FBI uses less wattage to perform interrogations.

Which I know from all those times I’ve been interrogated.

3. The time change screwed up our schedule and I slept too late to make it to church on Sunday morning.

Actually, P woke me up about five minutes before we needed to walk out the door to make it on time, but since I am not Jane Jetson, it wasn’t going to happen.

4. I went to Borders and bought a new, hot pink notebook to record all my thoughts.

It has about 100 pages, which should be plenty.

5. I cleaned out my closet and got out all my spring shoes.

So, basically, SNOOZE.

I realize there have been times in the past where I’ve created an entire post out of cleaning my closet, but it’s been done to death. Plus, it’s not nearly so interesting when I haven’t added anything new to the process. My closet looks just like it did this time last year after I cleaned it out, except for the removal of a pink Banana Republic sweater whose time had come and some brown, wedge heels that never fit right but I had kept them hoping my heel would become fatter and they’d actually stay on.

It didn’t.

Last night I went to Bible Study and told the girls that Big Mama was out of material, because we all refer to Big Mama as if she is a third party. I told them that when they pulled up Big Mama tomorrow on their computers all they would find was a recipe for Chicken Cakes.

I was totally prepared and resigned to play the Chicken Cake card.

But LO, THE SUN! My dear Bible study friend, Amy G., mentioned she is trying to come up with a great chapter book to read to her fourth grade class. She asked us about some of our favorite chapter books from the fourth grade.

The wheels began to turn and I said, “WAIT, I’ll ask the internet about their favorite fourth grade books and hold off on posting the Chicken Cake recipe!”

Your disappointment is palpable.

Fourth grade was a stellar time for me and my love of books. I mean, it wasn’t like I had a really busy social schedule, other than talking to my boyfriend Jonathan every Monday afternoon on the phone while my mama drove my sister to dance class, because I certainly didn’t want her to know I was talking to a boy on the phone. Embarrassing.

Jonathan and I had a secret romance that was comprised largely of three passed notes, a few clandestine Monday afternoon phone calls, and a silver necklace with a Hershey Kiss pendant that he gave me for Valentines Day. Shortly thereafter we broke up because he felt I was using him. I didn’t know what that meant, but he heard it from his friend Phillip who was clearly much wiser in matters of the heart.

Anyway, what I’m saying is I loved to read books and, when I found one I loved, I read it over and over again. I would sneak into my closet at night, turn on the light and stay up way too late reading books.

In fact, my book collection was so vast that I actually created my own private library using the shelves of my closet, complete with alphabetical listings and a mini-card catalogue so that my friends could check out my books.

Oddly enough, I didn’t have that many friends.

But my fourth grade social life isn’t the point. The point is what books did you read and love in the fourth grade or sometime in that time frame? Here are some we mentioned:

Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing (obvious choice)
Super Fudge
Blubber
Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great (clearly, Judy Blume rules)
Soup by Robert Newton Peck
Island of the Blue Dolphins
Where the Red Fern Grows
The Shining (totally kidding, but wanted to make sure you’re paying attention)
Ralph, the Motorcycle Mouse

Those are just a few in what I am sure is a vast sea of quality fourth grade reading material. What are some great books we are leaving out?

And for the four guys who read this blog, we need some manly input as well. Be brave.

Yep. Still aqua.

The last time I checked in with the staff at Big Mama there wasn’t so much working furiously as there was a lot of lying around on the couch, eating Sour Patch Kids and catching up on episodes of Tim Gunn’s Guide to Style.

So, clearly, we’re taking the whole template crashing thing very seriously.

We are currently experiencing some technical difficulties here at Big Mama, Inc.

Our staff is working furiously behind the scenes trying to figure out exactly what went wrong.

We have figured out that it has something to do with the computer.

The problem all started when I called Sophie, of Boomama greatness, to ask her how to move some stuff around on my sidebar. She told me what I needed to do and then said, “Why don’t I just do it for you?”

And I agreed because I was deathly afraid that I would mess things up beyond all comprehension if I tried to do something technical. Plus, I really hate to learn new things. I find that knowledge is usually highly overrated.

So, I’m sitting on the phone with Sophie as she begins to copy and paste, thinking to myself what a sweet friend she is to just take care of all this for me while she is in the midst of hosting a Soup-tacular.

And then I hear what sounds like hyperventilating as she says, “Don’t look at your blog. Do NOT pull up your blog. I’ll get it all fixed in just a minute.”

Well, I looked at my blog. And I’m not going to lie, it was not pretty.

Sophie and I stared at all the html code for a long period of time with our brains calculating all the vast internet knowledge that we do not possess. We have sent frantic S.O.S. messages to people who know more about all this than we do, but I’m not sure Caroline’s preschool class will be checking email on a Friday afternoon.

In the meantime, we here at Big Mama, Inc. have reverted back to the bright aqua format so that y’all can still actually read blog posts without having to decipher where each post begins and ends.

Your prayers for a swift html recovery would be much appreciated.

I started yesterday like I start every other Tuesday morning, with a trip to the orthodontist. The only difference was that yesterday I brought Caroline with me and it really made the whole experience more meaningful to have someone standing right at my head asking, “WHAT’S HE DOING, MAMA? DOES THAT HURT? THAT LOOKS LIKE IT HURTS, MAMA!”

And now is when I usually whine and complain and give my overall sob story about how I didn’t get my braces off. So yeah, I didn’t get my braces off. I got the same old song and dance about how he doesn’t want to take them off until my bite is perfect, and the Earth is in alignment with Jupiter, and the planets of Venus do a dance around the sun. Then, he showed me how to use a variety of rubberbands to create a web that even Charlotte would envy and that seems to have given my mouth the ability to move of its own free will. I am a little bit like a ventriloquist dummy, but without the ventriloquist…which I guess just leaves a dummy…which makes me think of “Sanford and Son”.

Hey Dummy.

As usual, I am firing on all cylinders.

Anyway, my braces should come off sometime between now and never. As I scheduled my next appointment, the receptionist said, “It looks like next time you’re getting your permanent retainer!” I just looked at her blankly and said, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” My attitude has taken a serious nose dive to the south.

We topped off the morning of orthodontia with a trip to Target. I can’t really remember what we needed. Oh! We needed a Rubbermaid bin for our new pocket-sized friend Polly and her wee wardrobe. We found a lovely bin with a lid that clicks into place, and then I directed our attention to the childrens’ apparel. They had these cute little capri yoga pants with a matching hoodie in a peppy shade of blue with Super Star written across the front, but instead of spelling out “Star” there was just a little picture of a star. The outfit was 50% off and I have an affinity for anything that says “Super Star” because great is my love for Mary Katherine Gallagher. So, I showed the outfit to Caroline, she looked it over, and announced, “Oh no. I will not wear that.” Apparently, 4 year olds aren’t wearing sassy tracksuits this fall, they are so over.

Finally, our morning of fun culminated in a trip to HEB where Caroline realized, for the first time, that the letters above the store are, in fact, H. E. B. It was a moment filled with awe and wonder at the symmetry of it all. Anyway, we loaded our cart with all the essentials; milk, eggs, cheese, hot dogs and Sour Patch Kids. Then, we headed over to the toiletries section because I needed razors and shampoo.

So, here’s where I have to make a confession. I have broken up with the Schick Intuition. I haven’t been ready to publicly admit that until now because I haven’t been sure if we’re just “on a break” or if we’re actually past the point of reconciliation. Yesterday, in the razor aisle at HEB, I accepted that whatever we once had is gone.

Those little inserts, with the soap and the razor all in one convenient package, were so appealing at first, but I began to notice that the soap part breaks off way too soon. It can’t commit to a long term relationship, and I really need the security of knowing I won’t be left in the shower with nothing to shave my legs with but a dry razor blade. I know I led many of you astray with my earlier glowing review of the Intuition, but it was all so new and exciting. I was blinded to its flaws and I kept giving it chance after chance for redemption, but, yesterday around noon, I accepted it was time to move on and went back to my old friend, The Venus.

We were reunited and it feels so good.

After all that angst amongst the hair removal products, I headed to the hair care aisle. I saved it for the end of the trip because I knew exactly what was going to happen. About a month ago, I ran out of my Biolage Normalizing Shampoo. I accepted it and decided that, given our new budget constraints, I could live with Pantene Pro-V. The Pantene ran out on Sunday. On Monday I was reduced to using Caroline’s Barbie Shampoo and, although my hair was tangle free and smelled like strawberries, I didn’t feel that I was getting the hair care that I need. It was time to buy new shampoo.

I stood on that aisle for a long time, concentrating so hard that at one point I even asked Caroline to “Please, just quit talking for one minute so that Mama can think.” This is important, baby, this is about Mama’s HAIR.

It was a crucial decision and, in the back of my mind, I could hear Gulley’s warning that trying to go cheap on her hair care regimen resulted in damage that she is still dealing with to this day. I gazed longingly at the bottle of Biolage. I even picked it up and put it in my cart because my flesh is weak. Then, as I walked down the aisle, I noticed the $3 bottle of Clairol Herbalessence with COCONUT MILK which, I have no idea what that means for my hair, but it sounded calming and ALL NATURAL. So, I put down my Biolage and picked up the Clairol.

But I’m not sure I feel good about this decision. I mean, I can give up the Biolage, but I need a good replacement. Any recommendations on haircare products?

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this, but I am not a fan of change. And when I say not a fan, what I mean is that change tends to make me panic and hyperventilate.? Like I always tell P, it’s not that I’m high maintenance, I just like things the way I like them.

I mean I am a woman who spent days after I brought Caroline home from the hospital crying because I was just so homesick for the hospital. After all, in the hospital I knew how to be a mama, but to have a baby at home was an entirely different experience. I didn’t know how to be a mama within the confines of my own home.? Of course, the hospital also had the bonus feature of an around the clock nursing staff who were far more competent than me AND they changed diapers filled with a tar-like substance.? But of course, hospitals tend to frown on people taking up permanent residence, not to mention the insurance companies, so I had to learn how to be a mama at home.

And I survived.

So, it would make sense that in spite of all the issues I was having with Blogger, and especially Haloscan, that I am feeling a little uncomfortable here in my new home at Wordpress, even though I know it’s bigger and better.? Everytime I push a button or click on a link, I just know I’m about to erase my entire blog or post something that looks like this ald;jlkhiopehoi? because I’m so busy trying to learn all the features and have no idea what I’m doing.

I’m very computer savvy.

Anyway, for those of y’all who have mentioned that you’ve had trouble subscribing or adding a link, I’m pretty sure it’s a temporary glitch in Bloglines. I was able to subscribe to the new feed on Bloglines, Google Reader and iGoogle. I also know several readers who have had no problem putting the new link on their blogroll, and IT WORKS.? So, the right link is http://thebigmamablog.com/? for your blogrolls, and if that doesn’t work for the feedreaders try http://thebigmamablog.com/feed/. And if all that fails, or you want to do it the easiest way possible, look on my sidebar at the end of my blogroll and click on either of the subscribe icons and they’ll hook you up.

If y’all get the chance in your busy weekends, I’d appreciate it if you’d give it a whirl so I’ll know it’s all working. I’m going to keep double posting over at the Blogger site for the next week just to make sure something is showing up in Bloglines and to give y’all time to make the switch.

Thanks for your patience while I sit here at my desk and hyperventilate.

I am a procrastinator. It’s who I am. Maybe it’s because I like to live life with that extra amount of stress or maybe I’m just a little lazy until forced to take action, but I always put off today what can be done tomorrow.

Which may explain my stellar GPA in college.

In all fairness, there is only so much a person can retain when trying to read an entire Geology textbook in one sitting the night before an exam. And that’s right, I took Geology, otherwise known as “Rocks for Jocks”, because Biology at Texas A&M is what’s known as a “weed-out” course. It’s a real life study of Darwinian theory, only the strong survive. The rest are spit out on the shores of community college or, at the very least, scholastic probation.

Anyway, months ago, when my friend E announced she was pregnant, I immediately said, “I can’t wait to help plan a baby shower for you!”. And I totally meant it. What’s not to love about baby showers? I mean, pastel Jordan almonds and pink sherbert punch all in one setting, while guests oooh and aaah over an electric breast pump and share their own labor horror stories? What more could you ask for in a social get together?

It doesn’t get any better than that.

A few of us got together and began planning the initial details of the shower. We decided on a date and I volunteered to have the shower at my house because BABY SHOWERS! LOVE THE BABIES! E & W HAVING BABIES! HAPPY! HAPPY! HAPPY!

I wrote the date down on my calendar and it got pushed to the back of my mind because it was months and months away. Then, about a month ago, I received my invitation in the mail and a little light went on that alerted me that the day was drawing closer…and then, it went right back off because a month? A month away? PLENTY OF TIME.

So, on Friday, in the midst of all my thumb trauma, I happened to glance at my calendar and realized the shower was a week away, and as I write this, less than a week away. And the little light inside came back on in FULL PANIC MODE.

ONE WEEK. One week to get my house party ready and oh, plan and cook a brunch menu for 35-40 people. And really, I’m excited about it. I thrive on the pressure. In all honesty, I love having people over and I love cooking for a crowd. And I adore E and could not be more excited for her as she joins the ranks of motherhood.

So, here’s what y’all can do for me, because I know you’re wondering. I’d love to hear about some of your favorite baby shower moments, great brunch recipes and cute decorating ideas.

Help me out, o wise internet friends.

Last night after dinner, when we discovered there was truly nothing on T.V., we scrolled through our channel guide and discovered our music channels. I had no idea we even had music channels. We switched our service to Dish Network after I decided that Time Warner is part of the axis of evil, and I haven’t spent much time perusing all our programming options.

Plus, we know where Noggin is and, in at least one of our opinions, that’s all that matters. Oh Go Diego Go, how I love starting my mornings to the sound of Rosie Perez’s voice.

Anyway, P searched for a classic country option. We’ve been listening to quite a lot of classic country lately because it’s always on at Mimi and Bop’s house. Lo and behold, we have our very own classic country channel on our television through the technological marvel that is the satellite dish. So, we sat on the couch and listened to some high quality music while we discussed our the events of our day.

Seriously, there is nothing on T.V. this week, but don’t think I’m not counting down the days until the all new season of Top Chef premieres next week.

Hearing some of the songs brought back so many childhood memories that I could almost smell the interior of our ‘77 Buick LeSabre with its baby blue velour seats. I was country when country wasn’t cool, wearing my cowboy boots from Weiners. Of course wearing cowboy boots bought from Weiners probably qualified me as more of an urban cowboy.

I shrieked with delight when The Statler Brothers came on. “Flowers on the Wall”, anyone remember it? “Elizabeth”? “Do You Know You are My Sunshine?”?

These are classics people. Classics.

In a one hour period, we listened to John Conlee, Patsy Cline, Buck Owens, Jessie Colter, Waylon Jennings and George Jones. I think I frightened P with all my nostalgia and talk of GENUINE LEATHER cowboys boots from Weiners. But as God is my witness, I am so going to download some classic country from iTunes this weekend and don’t be fooled into thinking for a minute that “Delta Dawn” isn’t going to be on the list.

So, what classic country would be on y’alls list? Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Be proud and own your love of The Oakridge Boys. You know you spent some time singing “Elvira”. Don’t deny it.

And any comments that mention Rascal Flatts or Kenny Chesney as legitimate musical suggestions will be promptly deleted. They’re not classic and they’re not country. George Jones would give up drinking before he’d be seen wearing pukka shells around his neck.