Author: Big Mama

Does anyone know if there’s any sort of big football game going on this weekend?

Oh I kid.

How about a little motivational clip to get you through your Wednesday?

I feel like there are so many things to cover today even though I can’t think of them at the moment. Let’s take a minute and watch a little video instead.

See? Don’t you feel better now?

First of all, let me address the queso. I normally just make traditional queso with Velveeta and a can of Rotel. But on Saturday night I got fancy and made a recipe I found on Pinterest for Casa Ole’ queso. I always knew it had celery in it because I think it’s part of what makes it so delicious, but I had no idea it also called for fresh jalapeno and green bell pepper. The problem came when I realized it called for a block of American cheese instead of Velveeta and there was no American cheese to be found in my house.

Sure, I could have made another trip back to the grocery store but after the whole cabbage/celery debacle, I felt like I could make do with Velveeta. And it turned out really good. But next time I’m going all out and using the American cheese just like they do it at Casa Ole’.

Secondly, ants on a log are celery sticks with peanut butter and raisins lined up on them. Like ants on a log. Get it? Gulley and I got so tickled yesterday because she brought up the fact that ants on a log were really the first food art. Long before Pinterest ever existed, moms of the 1970’s were piling some peanut butter and raisins on a piece of celery and calling it ants on a log in the hopes it would entice their kids to eat it. Kids think they have it so rough these days with their sandwiches cut to look like butterflies and Angry Birds. They don’t even know. The 70’s were hardcore, man.

And you know what? All the peanut butter and raisins in the world can’t make raw celery taste better. It essentially tastes the same as if you ate a weed in your front yard. I know this to be true because when I was eleven years old I decided to eat a weed in my front yard. I don’t know why.

Third, it became apparent to me from the comments yesterday that young girls across America were denied the chance to play the flute. You will never convince me that all of us really had mouths shaped wrong. I believe this is a time honored lie that band directors tell girls because they need more people on the clarinet or the oboe. Now we’ll never know if one of us could have grown up to become a world-renowned flautist.

That’s right. I just used the word flautist.

Finally, several people emailed me and said they’re Alabama fans headed to College Station this weekend and wanted suggestions of places to go. And so I thought I’d throw out a few and then ask the Aggies out there for more thoughts.

1. Midnight Yell Practice – Even if you’re an Alabama fan you’ll have fun at Midnight Yell. It’s a great tradition.

2. The Dixie Chicken – It’s a College Station tradition. Just know that it will be jam packed. But the entire Northgate area right across from campus is a must. Unless you don’t like crowds. In which case you may just want to stay home.

3. Grub – Best burgers in town. I can’t even describe them.

4. Wings & More – If you’re a fan of the wings. I personally prefer their chicken fried steak.

5. Lupe Tortilla – This is a chain all over various parts of Texas, but they have the best fajitas.

6. Old Bryan Marketplace – Just in case you want to do some shopping. They have some gorgeous home stuff.

7. Koppe Bridge – Another great burger place.

8. Freebirds – Home of the original monster burrito. I like mine with the cayenne tortilla, chicken, whole pinto beans and rice with a good amount of barbecue sauce. Now I’m hungry.

Okay, feel free to fill in all the things I’ve missed. I’m sure there are at least a few.

And hopefully none of them will involve ants on a log.

I’m just going to be upfront. If you need me this week I will be busy reading, analyzing and watching every single bit of coverage regarding the Texas A&M vs. Alabama game this coming Saturday. Because, as much as I hate to admit this, somewhere in my mind I believe that I can will the Aggies on to victory if I just concentrate on it enough. Like part of Coach Sumlin’s game plan might be, “Guys, we just need a forty-something wife and mother in San Antonio to really focus and read about all the weaknesses in our defense if we’re going to win this game.”

I realize I may have a problem.

But Gulley and I are headed to the game on Saturday because that’s what we asked for this year for our birthdays. Which plays into my other belief that I will help the Aggies if I just yell loud enough from the very top of the zone as I bake in the crisp 96 degree weather.

Anyway, I just want you to be aware I may be a little high strung this week. I may talk in a voice that isn’t quite in the normal decibel range. And I may ramble endlessly about football like I just did for the first 200 words of this post.

But let me tell you about this weekend.

Caroline played soccer. It was hot.

The end. Thank you for reading.

That’s not really all we did but it kind of felt like it. On Friday night we went to dinner with some friends and had a great time, then we headed home to get a good night’s sleep because we had to drive to Austin early Saturday morning for the first soccer game of the weekend.

It was a pretty uneventful trip. The girls played a good game but lost and then we turned around and drove back to San Antonio. And as we drove home a life-changing thing happened for Caroline. We introduced her to the wonder that is the theme song to Sanford and Son. P was fast-forwarding through tracks on one of my CDs and basically mocking my taste in music because apparently he thinks he’s above listening to Maria Osmond and Dan Seals singing Meet Me in Montana. I decided to switch music before he could launch into his thoughts on the Indigo Girls and put on the theme song to Sanford and Son.

I realize this seems like a random choice but my friend Debbi was over the other night and it was on one of her Spotify playlists and the moment I heard the opening notes I felt an inexplicable feeling of pure joy and happiness. And I decided to share that feeling with P and Caroline.

It totally worked. Caroline declared it possibly the coolest song ever and now wants to learn to play the saxophone even though neither P nor I could confirm that a saxophone is used in the Sanford and Son theme song because both of us spent one year in band when we were in sixth grade. I played the clarinet because the band director wouldn’t let me play the flute because my mouth is shaped wrong. And P played the baritone because he was a big kid and his band director felt like he was the only one who could carry it home every day.

What I’m saying is that we were obviously musical prodigies.

And I’m 98% sure that someone is playing the heck out of the harmonica on that song, but I can make no such guarantees about the saxophone. However, Caroline feels certain about it. But before you take her word for it I should also tell you, in the interest of full disclosure, that we were at the grocery store on Saturday afternoon and I sent her back to the produce section because I forgot to get celery and she came back with a head of cabbage. And then argued with me when I told her it wasn’t celery. Which made me feel a little bit like a loser mom because whose kid doesn’t know about celery?

True confession: I’ve never made ants on a log.

Saturday night we broke down and ordered the A&M game on pay-per-view because did you not read the part about how crucial my in-depth analysis is for our upcoming game? Gulley and the boys came over along with Mimi and Bops and we ate barbecue and chocolate cake. But not at the same time because that would be gross.

Then Sunday we had another soccer game.

After the game we came home and did absolutely nothing. P left to go bird hunting, I did laundry and Caroline watched multiple episodes of Penguins of Madagascar. Caroline and I were showered and in pajamas by 6:00 and I ate leftover queso for dinner.

That’s why I was buying celery, by the way. For the queso.

I realize this makes me the healthiest person you know.

And that was our weekend. Now I’m off to go read more about football because I can’t let Coach Sumlin down.

I realize I didn’t post anything yesterday. I totally meant to but I had one of those completely uneventful days where I ran errands and returned phone calls and blah, blah, blah. Truth be told, I blame Diana Nyad. I just kept thinking why on earth would anyone want to read about my trip to HEB or listen to me lament about a two day old bee sting when a woman swam all the way from Cuba to Florida.

Part of me is just glad I’m not her friend in real life because that trumps so many things. “Oh, you couldn’t find the right brand of dog food at the grocery store? How terrible for you. Remember that time I swam for fifty-three hours with jellyfish and sharks?”

Not that she’d be like that. I’m just projecting what I would do if I ever swam from Cuba to Florida. Which, I can promise you, will never happen.

Anyway, let’s talk about clothes.

1. reva tunic

Love the colors in this. I think it would be a great fall transition piece with leggings and boots. Then throw a jacket on if the weather ever cools off.

2. 1969 legging cords

Listen. These feel like butter. You need a pair. And they come in a veritable rainbow of colors, including this maroon which makes me feel like I need to go to an Aggie game in November when it’s cold enough to wear them.

Gap also has a bootcut version for those of you who hate the skinny.

3. flowing embroidered top

After I lamented last week about the lack of maroon, I feel like the fashion world is mocking me. I did some shopping this week and it is EVERYWHERE. The problem is that most of it is featured on winter items like blazers and cords.

However, I saw this darling top at Zara and felt like some Texas A&M or Mississippi State fans could benefit from the knowledge that there is a cute maroon and white top that you can wear when it’s 90 degrees outside.

4. elora pullover

I would live in this all winter long.

5. fluid racerback tank

I saw these tanks at Gap the other day and fell in love. They are super soft and a great length for layering under jackets or sweaters or whatever.

6. abstract leggings

Patterned leggings are going to be a thing this year. I happen to like them, but I think the key is to find a top that’s long enough to help you pull them off. Preferably in a nice solid color.

7. bubble tea poncho

I have to tell you that I saw this in person at a local boutique the other day and audibly gasped. I love it so much. To quote Agnes “IT’S SO FLUFFY I COULD DIE”.

(It’s not really that fluffy but it is super soft and oh my word I would love it with jeans and boots and I might feed my family Ramen for a week so I can buy it.)

8. multistrand chain necklace

I bought a necklace like this last fall at Nordstrom and I wear it almost every day. It makes any plain t-shirt look a little fancy.

9. junior burnout tee

These are at Target right now and I love them. They are so soft. I know you’re thinking I am very fancy with my soft t-shirts from Target.

And you are correct.

10. game day boot socks

How much do I love these? SO MUCH. And they have them for all manner of schools so don’t be deterred if Texas A&M happens to not be your personal favorite.

That’s it for today.

Y’all have a great Friday.

Gig’em Aggies.

Well yesterday may have been Tuesday but it has never felt more like a Monday. As much as I enjoy Labor Day weekend, it kind of feels wrong to get somewhat in a school routine and then have it immediately derailed with a holiday.

I started the day by waking up before the alarm even went off because I never really slept. And so I felt just as refreshed as what you’re imagining. As long as what you’re imagining involves something resembling Joe Cocker in hot pink pajama pants.

But I dragged myself to Smart Barre because I’ve committed to it and spent most of last week feeling like my muscles had been run over by a truck and I don’t want all that hard work and pain to go to waste just because I like to sit on the couch. I think the instructor smelled my weakness because she worked us harder than ever and I just kept looking at that clock waiting for that blissful last five minutes of class when you get to lie there and “listen to your body”. I’ll be honest and tell you that yesterday my body whispered, “I hate you”.

It kind of hurt my feelings.

After class I walked down to the hardware store because we’re getting the exterior of the house repainted in the next month and I need to choose a color. I was all excited because I had a Pinterest epiphany over the weekend and felt certain that my paint color soulmate was going to be either Benjamin Moore’s Chelsea Gray or Amherst Gray. So I bought samples of both of those colors and a paintbrush so I could slap both of them on the house and see how they looked.

Then somehow Caroline talked me into having lunch with her at school yesterday. I’m not sure why we needed to eat lunch together when you consider that we’d been together all weekend long, not to mention for the entire summer that just ended and the fact that we eat breakfast and dinner together every single day. But she felt it was necessary and I got swept away by all the Sunrise/Sunset MY BABY IS GOING TO GO OFF TO COLLEGE IN EIGHT YEARS nonsense and ended up driving through Chick-Fil-A to deliver nuggets to school.

When lunch was over I drove back home and proceeded to try out my paint swatches. I’m sad to report that once they dried it was apparent that Amherst Gray is way too dark. And Chelsea Gray? Well, it’s almost exactly the same color our house is right now.

I found the whole thing to be disheartening. So if you can help a girl out and suggest a nice gray exterior paint color, I would be much obliged. I’m looking for a true gray. Not a blue-gray. Not a taupe-gray. Not a green-gray. Not too dark. Not too light. I will not eat them here or there. I will not eat them anywhere. I do not like green eggs and ham. I do not like them Sam I am.

What was I saying?

Oh. My day.

Caroline and I went to the grocery store after school and then came back home to work on her homework. It was decimals. And I was once again reminded that I am incapable of doing fifth grade math. Tenths? Hundredths? Thousandths? Why do the decimals mock me?

And just about the time we wrapped up the math homework and I was fighting the urge to put on my pajamas and crawl in bed and console myself with the reminder that I’m a grownup who can use a calculator, Gulley texted to see if Caroline and I wanted to meet her and the boys for ice cream.

Yes. Yes we do.

We drove to Baskin-Robbins and Gulley and I sat outside on a bench while the kids ran in to order their ice cream. And that’s when I got stung by a bee. On the upper part of the backside of my thigh. Like not quite my bottom, but close enough. The odds of it getting me there have to be close to .0025 or something.

That’s when I knew for sure that I was over this particular Tuesday posing as a Monday.

And so I drove us home, took a Zyrtec and put on my pajamas.

Which is what I should have done in the first place.

Well we are just worn out from our celebration of the labor.

Or as I will refer to it from now on, the weekend that I became a wee bit obsessed with Candy Crush. For those of you who don’t know what it is, Candy Crush is basically like opening a bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos and telling yourself you’ll only eat four or five. Theoretically, that’s possible. But the reality is you’ll wake up the next morning with nothing but an empty bag, cheese residue on your fingers, and regret.

For many months I’ve heard various friends lament about Candy Crush. I’ve seen people on Facebook requesting lives and, I’ll be honest, I’ve been a little smug. I was smarter than to get caught up in some silliness over a game. I’m engaged in real life and not moving striped candies around a game board.

But that all changed Friday night.

Call it curiosity or call it boredom, but I caved. We went to dinner with Mimi and Bops and I ate possibly the best shrimp I’ve ever had. They were stuffed with two different kinds of olives and prosciutto. That’s really all you need to know. And when I returned home I sat on the couch and I had nothing to do. P was watching some hunting show, Caroline was playing on her Kindle and I decided what the heck? How addictive could it be?

I also felt like it might be a good outlet for me during college football season since I tend to have a little nervous energy to burn. Like, for example, on Saturday during the Texas A&M vs. Rice game I got a little worked up and, long story short, I threw Gulley’s dining room table through a plate glass window into her back yard.

Not really. But I could have.

But I will tell you that I popped out of bed at 7:30 a.m. on Saturday which is so unlike me that P was worried something was wrong. And then realizing I was just all hyped up with game day adrenaline began to hum the Aggie War Hymn. I’ve never loved him more.

So you can see why a distraction might be a good thing for me. Candy Crush was the perfect thing for about twenty-four hours because after the A&M game was over I was exhausted. I could no longer handle the emotions of game day and was like a little kid leaving the zoo who screams “I’M NOT TIRED! I’M NOT TIRED!” until they just pass smooth out in the backseat of the car.

And so I sat on the couch and watched the Clemson/Georgia game and the LSU/TCU game while I sorted candies into neat lines and watched them disappear from the screen to find my inner peace. I have a feeling Les Miles was doing the same thing on the sidelines of Cowboy Stadium.

It was all good and fine until I reached level 29 and found myself at the crux of a moral dilemma. Am I actually going to spend money to buy boosters or extra lives or what have you to get to the next level? After all the lectures I’ve given Caroline on how these things are just TRAPS! TRAPS TO GET YOUR MONEY! If a game requires you to buy coins or anything else, it’s a TRAP!

So, yeah. I bought the boosters.

I justified it because it was only ninety-nine cents or whatever. But then I felt dirty. And realized this is how it all starts. One minute you’re playing a seemingly innocent game on your phone and the next day you’ve given your life savings to the Apple store, your eyesight is shot from staring at the brightly colored candies, and your family finds you muttering to yourself, “It’s those dang jellies. IT’S THE JELLIES!”

Just look at Les Miles.

In the words of Beyonce, “I don’t think I’m ready for this jelly”.

Which is why I think I might delete Candy Crush from my phone.

Tomorrow.

Or the next day.