Author: Big Mama

While I was gone last weekend, it was bike rodeo time at school. I don’t know if schools all around the country have bike rodeos or if it’s just a Texas thing. Maybe you have bike rodeos but call them something else. Perhaps a bike festival.

It’s essentially an event where kids bring their bikes to school and weave in and out of cones and ride in a circle and a few other things like that. And since I was out of town, P was solely in charge of all bike rodeo duties, including taking Caroline up to school to practice on the course the day before.

She’d been a little nervous about it and we discussed it the night before I left. I tried to reassure her and even asked, “Remember what it says in the Bible about worrying?”

And she answered, “Yes. Hakuna Matata.”

That particular passage is found in the gospel of Pumba.

And then I got nervous when P texted me while I was at dinner on Thursday night and said Caroline was really nervous while practicing and even wiped out a few times. That’s how you know you’re a mom. When you’re at a really nice dinner and you’re worrying about how well your child is going to weave in and out of orange cones the next day.

As it turns out she did just great when it came time for the real thing and even told P afterwards that she was “amazed” at how well she did on the cones.

Which makes that time I spend worrying about her self-esteem appear to be wasted.

In other news, I was tucking her in last night and she said, “Mom? You have something right there by your eye.” And so I wiped my eye and asked if I got it. She looked at me closer and said, “Never mind. You just have old people eye.”

It’s a moment I’ll cherish forever.

And confirmation that maybe I need to worry more about my own self-esteem.

And, finally, I am in the midst of a small crisis.

From as early as I can remember, my Nanny always made cinnamon cake. It was a guarantee that any time you walked through her front door there was either a warm cake coming out of the oven or one already waiting on the countertop.

And so it has always been one of my comfort foods, along with frito pies made with Hormel chili from a can. Which reminds me that Nanny also used to make the best chili-cheese sandwiches, but she made those with Wolf Brand chili and a slice of cheddar cheese.

Clearly I am a woman with sophisticated culinary tastes.

Anyway, I love to make a cinnamon cake. And it’s essential that you make it in a bundt pan because that’s how Nanny always made it. But lately something has gone awry.

Because I’m pretty sure this isn’t how it’s supposed to look.

Martha Stewart and Nanny would be so sad.

Granted, this one already has a few chunks taken out of it because cinnamon cakes don’t last long at my house, but it wasn’t pretty even before that.

At first I thought the problem was that I wasn’t greasing the cake pan well enough, but now scientific research in the form of five failed cinnamon cake attempts has led me to believe that fault may lie with my bundt pan.

So I’m going to buy a new one tomorrow. Or whenever I remember.

And I’ll be sure to let you know how it turns out because I realize now I’ve brought you into my bundt cake troubles and you won’t be able to sleep until you know how it all works out.

In case you’re wondering about the cinnamon cake recipe, it’s also called Sock It To Me cake. Except Nanny always added a whole extra cup of sugar to the recipe because WHY NOT?

Oh, and she baked it for 55 minutes at 350 instead of 45 minutes of 375.

And no matter how hard you try, it never tastes as good as hers always did. Even when it actually comes out of the bundt pan in one piece.

Hakuna Matata.

I cannot even begin to explain how windy it was here yesterday. But I will tell you that I woke up in a strange colorful land surrounded by singing little people and discovered I’d inadvertently killed a witch wearing ruby slippers.

Or maybe I saw that in a movie one time. I can’t really remember.

P had warned me that the weather forecast had called for wind gusts up to fifty miles an hour but I didn’t really take him seriously because I never believe the weather is going to actually do what anyone predicts until it actually does it. This is a direct result of growing up in Texas and spending way too many days being disappointed by some fool weatherman who predicted snow and school closures, only to wake up the next morning and find the reality was I had to go to school while a chilly rain fell.

But the wind prediction turned out to be right.

Unfortunately, I had to go to HEB because I have spent the last three weeks being a piecemeal grocery shopper. By which I mean that I just made about three short trips to the store a week to get whatever five things we needed to make it through for a couple of days. Frankly, I just didn’t have the time or energy to develop a well-crafted, comprehensive grocery list.

But yesterday was the day. It felt like it was time for me to return to reality. And it helps that we are looking at two solid weeks of a pretty normal schedule. So I made a list that included real things like vegetables and milk and not just Nilla Wafers and York Peppermint Patties. Then I decided to head to the store sooner rather than later so I didn’t have to dread it all day.

I fought the wind that nearly blew my car door off the hinges and made my way into HEB. I perused the produce section and picked out ingredients that had the potential to become real meals. And then, with a full cart, I walked towards the back of the store to get milk and butter and eggs.

(Why do I all of a sudden feel like I’m narrating a feature on Sesame Street?)

And as I opened the freezer doors to reach for the milk, it happened. The power went out. In the whole store. It was total and complete darkness. And all I could think was how mad I was going to be if this meant the cash registers weren’t going to work and all my grocery shopping had been for naught. WHY CRUEL WORLD, WHY?

I pulled my cell phone out of my purse so I’d have a little light and a sweet elderly woman behind me exclaimed, “OH HONEY! That is perfect! Now you can help me find my Coffee Mate!”. Because that was obviously the most important issue at hand while we stood there with full shopping carts in pitch black darkness.

So we searched for Coffee Mate for several minutes and finally found the right one (I had no idea there were so many choices) just as the generator finally kicked on. And to my eternal gratitude they announced the cash registers were indeed working and customers could check out.

I walked up to the front of the store and unloaded all my groceries on the conveyor belt only to be reminded by the checker that the conveyor belt wasn’t working because, you know, ELECTRICITY. And so I had to manually move all my groceries toward the cash register like I was Caroline Ingalls. I have never been so grateful for Benjamin Franklin and old what’s-his-name that invented the grocery store conveyor belt.

I know you are all astounded at this point by this harrowing tale of grocery store bravery.

Anyway, I came home, unloaded my groceries, caught up on a few things and then it was time to pick up Caroline from school. I’d promised her we’d go get pedicures after school as a reward for a good report card and a few other things, so we went straight to the pedicure place. And Caroline begged me to not choose some “polish that’s the color of poop” like I usually do. It would seem she’s not a fan of the browns and grays I’ve favored lately. So I went with a deep red Essie color called Head Mistress and she went with a subtle turquoise, purple and neon pink combination. Her toes look like little Easter eggs.

But while we were in the midst of our pedicures, P called to ask how long the power had been out at our house. And I was unaware that the power was out at our house. After a quick online search, I knew that City Public Service was on the scene and we headed home to wait for the power to return. And I was reminded again of all the things that require electricity. Specifically the washing machine and the dryer.

I am not cut out for the pioneer life. And God knew this, which is why I was born in 1971. He knew I’d have a lifelong love of things like indoor plumbing, electricity and KC and The Sunshine Band.

The silver lining in all of this was that I wasn’t going to be able to cook dinner without electricity. And while that may not be technically true, I had big plans to use this excuse to the fullest. Around 5:30 I was mentally planning what type of food I wanted to have delivered to the house when I heard the whirr of the computer starting up and lights started to turn on.

So that’s how I ended up cooking chicken spaghetti for dinner last night. With just a little trace of bitterness over all the hardship I’d suffered and the fact I hadn’t been able to use any of it for good.

And by good, I mean pizza delivered to my door.

****

On a non-pioneer/my-life-and-times-without-electricity note, I had the chance to meet these sweet girls in person this weekend.

I already knew Kelly and Sophie and they know me very well because I threw up in front of them on a bus in Ecuador. Good times. But I got to meet Sheaffer from Pinterest Told Me To and Shay from Mix and Match Family. (Shay also happens to be Sean Lowe’s sister. Sean is the bachelor as in THE BACHELOR this season.)

Anyway, Sheaffer had asked me a long time ago to do a Pinterest fashion inspiration post on her blog. And then I forgot about it. But today I did a version of one which really just means Sheaffer was sweet enough to just use the picture of me from the above photo since that was a Pinterest inspired outfit and technically counts.

But, wait, there’s more! Sheaffer is giving away two signed copies of Sparkly Green Earrings and one of those copies will also include this gorgeous pair of Garden Party Chandelier Earrings from Stella & Dot .

Here’s the link to Sheaffer’s blog. Head on over there and leave a comment if you’d like a chance to win.

It is currently 9:01 p.m. on Sunday night. And I have been in my pajamas since 2:15. Mainly because I feel like I’ve lived a thousand lives since last Thursday and right now. By the time DotMOM wrapped on Saturday afternoon I was barely coherent.

I flew to Dallas on Thursday afternoon on the bumpiest flight I’ve ever been on. And I mean that. It was worse than the time I flew from Rome to Newark in 2002 and we hit turbulence and the person next to me started to throw up in their handy paper yuck sack.

Okay, on second thought maybe it wasn’t that bad. But I will tell you the man sitting next to me whispered, “Oh God” about every ten seconds for at least the last eight minutes of the flight. And I’ll be honest, that’s unsettling.

I just kept thinking that if I was going to die on a flight I really wished it would be more glamorous than a flight from San Antonio to Dallas Love Field. Talk about anti-climactic.

But we finally landed and I took a moment to compose myself then got off the plane to wait for Sophie because she was flying in about an hour later and I was going to ride to the hotel with her family. Unfortunately, when we all arrived at the rental car place we were informed they had given our car away since our flight was late. But then they couldn’t give us someone else’s car. Which is ironic considering they’d given someone else our car. It was like a Seinfeld episode. I know you can “take” the reservation, but the key is to “HOLD” the reservation.

They finally found a car for us and Sophie’s husband had to spend about thirty minutes trying to figure out how to fit all our luggage in the trunk because we both have overpacking issues and should have just both packed a footlocker like you used to do when you went to camp for two weeks. Maybe we could have labeled all our underwear with Sharpie markers too.

Once we arrived at the hotel we had a quick sound check and went over some conference details, went out for a lovely dinner, and then returned to the hotel room and visited for a while before we both decided it was time for bed. At which time I was delighted to discover that Embassy Suites not only believes in a proper air-conditioning system that blows cold air, but also the importance of the fitted bottom sheet.

Hallelujah and amen.

I don’t understand why this isn’t a universal hotel feature. And I don’t want to hear anyone tell me it’s because they’re hard to fold. Some things are worth a few sacrifices.

Friday was a blur of meeting some new friends and performing our conference duties and listening to some great messages. I know I keep saying this, but I love the DotMOM Conference. It really is so good.

Here’s a picture of Sophie and I onstage with John Croyle. It should be obvious from that photo that I was doing my best impression of a robot with a facial tic.

And it was even more fun because Gulley flew up to meet me on Friday morning and then Jen drove over to the hotel to spend the night with us and we all got to stay up late laughing and talking just like we’ve done anytime we’ve been together since 1991.

Needless to say, I was dragging a little by Saturday morning. And by a little, I mean that I could have laid down on the floor of the hotel lobby and taken a nap. But there was still a full day ahead and after a gallon or two of coffee I was good as new and talking very loudly at a very rapid rate in an octave about four times above normal.

This may be the reason that I chose to share my “sweaty feet issues” when I wear flats with an entire room full of women while giving a talk on fashion. Note to self: You don’t have to share everything.

When it was all over on Saturday I went straight to the hotel room and could have slept the rest of the night. But my friend Michelle was there and my college roommate, Meredith, was meeting us for dinner and Sophie needed a Mexican food fix before flying back to Alabama. So we powered through and ended up eating fajitas and queso at Uncle Julio’s and it was so worth it. Y’all. They had queso with beef fajita meat in it. If that isn’t the most genius idea ever, then I don’t know what is.

Meredith dropped us off at the hotel and Michelle went home and Sophie went to visit with some other friends, so Gulley and I went back to our room and put on our pjs and got in bed before we began to recap the weekend and all the fun.

At this point I may have been more than a little punchy. Like that kind of tired where everything is beyond hilarious. Gulley and I were laughing until we had tears running down our faces and could barely breathe.

And that’s when it happened.

The front desk at the hotel called our room and said there had been a complaint about the noise coming from our room and could we please quiet down.

That is so shameful.

In all honesty, it’s not the first time this has happened to us in a hotel. But it’s the first time it’s happened since 1993.

So, in closing, it was a really fun weekend.

And if you happened to be in room 501 at the Embassy Suites in Frisco on Saturday night, I deeply apologize.

*****

Here are the numbers drawn by Random.org on the book and earring giveaway.

#17 – Nellie
#45 – Jen
#335 – Melanie (but not me because that would be weird)

Thanks so much, y’all. There will be another giveaway this Friday.

I’m not really speechless.

Nothing is ever that serious.

But I have to tell y’all that my day started off rough yesterday. It wasn’t anything bad, but I didn’t feel great. It was gloomy outside, I had cramps, my head hurt. I was chockfull of some first world complaints.

I met my sister and nephew for lunch and that perked me up a little bit, but then I ran into The Container Store to pick up some small boxes and pretty gift wrap. And I’m here to tell you that nothing will make a perpetually unorganized person feel a sense of deep shame and regret like The Container Store.

It made me want to buy every storage bin and basket they had and maybe some colored file folders in an attempt to get some semblance of order in my life. But I made myself face the harsh reality that all those bins would do at my house is end up sitting on top of my washer and dryer until I eventually donated them to Goodwill.

And so I ran a few more errands, popped some Advil for the aforementioned cramps and headache, and then decided I should start to pack my suitcase for DotMOM since I’m leaving at 1:00 on Thursday and clothes are probably an essential part of the weekend.

About that time, I heard my phone beep to let me know I had a text. It was from my editor at Tyndale and she asked if I was sitting down. I texted back, “No. Should I be?”

She replied, “Yes! Sparkly Green Earrings debuts at #27 on this week’s New York Times Bestseller list.”

Umm. Yes. Sitting down wasn’t really enough. What just happened?

Y’all. You did this. You bought my book and told your friends and supported me and cheered me on and prayed for me. And this? Well, when God says he does more than you can ask or imagine he isn’t kidding around.

I ran outside and screamed for P and he was so relieved I wasn’t announcing I was pregnant. We jumped up and down, our sweet neighbors brought by a bottle of champagne and Mimi and Bops came by so we could have a celebratory toast. It will go down as one of my favorite moments.

I spent the rest of the evening in tears. And even now I’m getting all teary again. There just aren’t words to say how grateful I am to you. There are times in life that bring you to your knees in gratitude and humility and this is one of those times for me.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

And so to celebrate I’m throwing a huge party at my house next weekend.

Not really. But I wish I could and you all could come. How fun would that be? I mean other than that it would be really crowded and the fact that the floor in my guest bathroom is possibly rotting and about to fall through?

So that’s out.

But I am giving away three signed copies of Sparkly Green Earrings (I’ll sign them anyway you want me to!) along with three pairs of Towne & Reese Reynolds Green earrings from Carol & Company.

All you have to do for a chance to win is leave a comment on this post. I’ll keep comments open until Sunday and then use Random.org to draw three winners.

(I’m not doing Fashion Friday tomorrow because I’ll be at DotMOM and won’t have time. I’m sorry.)

And now I’m going to have another good cry. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend and can’t wait to see some of you at DotMOM.

Ephesians 3:20-21 “Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.”

This has nothing to do with anything else I’m about to discuss, but for one brief shining moment yesterday every bit of laundry in my house was clean. And folded. And put away.

And then Caroline got home from school and changed for soccer practice and P came home from work and changed clothes and the moment was over.

But it was a glorious ten minute period of time that was nice while it lasted.

Okay, so since I’m leading with laundry today, it’s safe to assume there isn’t much else going on. However, there are a few things I would like to share.

1. Have you seen this video of the cast of Downton Abbey performing One Direction’s What Makes You Beautiful? My friend Robin shared it with me in an attempt to help me assuage my grief over Sunday night’s episode.

2. This weekend is the DotMOM conference in Frisco. There’s still a few spots if you want to sign up! Go visit the conference page for more information.

And since some of you have asked, I’ll be signing books after Friday night’s session from 8:30-9:30.

3. Last night I made Pioneer Woman’s beef with snow peas because she recently made it on her cooking show and it’s a dish that can be made in sixteen minutes. Which SIGN ME UP.

Because while sixteen minutes is still about fifteen and a half minutes longer than I want to spend in the kitchen, it’s so much better than an hour.

The verdict is that it was delicious. Great flavor, very easy. The sad part is that the flank steak I bought from HEB that was billed as “tenderized” was still tough enough that P thought I might have fried up his old boots for dinner.

And before you tell me I still need to tenderize meat that’s labeled tenderized, I will tell you that I did indeed do just that. It was just that tough.

4. Any thoughts on The Bachelor? Were you surprised he didn’t choose Des? Because I was shocked. Even though I think her brother helped kill it. Who wants to deal with that every holiday for the rest of your life?

5. I have no idea what number five was going to be and I assure you I had something to say. But it has left me. And so I have to assume it wasn’t that interesting to begin with.

If it was, I’ll let you know about it tomorrow.

Y’all have a great Wednesday.

Well yesterday was a day I wait for all year long.

What day is that, you may ask?

Rodeo carnival day.

The San Antonio Rodeo is in full-swing right now and so yesterday Gulley, Steph, P and I took the kids out to the carnival portion. I could lie and tell you we did it unselfishly for the children, but the truth is we love ourselves a corn dog and some Texas twisters.

(Texas twisters are those homemade potato chips that I’m sure will be waiting for me on a big platter when we get to heaven someday.)

Originally just the moms were going to go, but P found himself with a day off and decided to join in the fun. Which worked out beautifully because it gave us an even number of people who wanted to actually ride rides. That means the kids and P.

The moms had no desire to ride any rides. My love of carnival rides came to a quick and ugly end about three years ago when I got on something called the Tower of Terror. It took four days for my inner ear to begin to function normally after that.

Here’s our group waiting in line for the first ride. It was the gigantic swings appropriately called Vertigo.

Please note that at this point no one looks like they might want to throw up. That wasn’t the case later on.

Then they headed to the hang glider ride while Steph, Gulley and I sipped Diet Cokes and rejoiced that P had decided to spend the day at the rodeo with us.

We debated making a break to the Wine Garden and turning it into a real party, but felt like we needed to at least cheer P on as he rode all the rides.

Eventually we made it to the Sea Dragon. This used to be my favorite ride every year at the Southeast Texas State Fair. But then I rode it two years ago and spent the entire time feeling like I was going to throw up or go flying out of my seat onto the concrete below. Or both.

But Caroline always loved it so I’d make myself ride it while I tried to pretend I wasn’t terrified. Then last year she rode it with Jackson and Will and decided she didn’t like it anymore either due to the feeling that you’re about to be hurled through the air into oblivion. However, P got her back on it this year with the promise he wouldn’t let her fall out. In fact, it isn’t possible to fall out or you’d hear about it all the time.

Or maybe there’s just a vast conspiracy to cover up Sea Dragon related deaths. Maybe it’s a real thing and we’re being kept in the dark.

So she practically sat on his lap and he held her firmly in place and she hated the entire thing. In typical Caroline fashion she got off that Sea Dragon and it was dead to her forever. She doesn’t even know why someone invented that ride. It’s horrible.

But she recovered quickly and they all rode a few more things before we headed to the real show. The food booths.

Caroline, P and I opted for the corn dog with lemonade. Everyone else went for the sausage on a stick.

And we all decided against the Glazed Donut Bacon Cheeseburger. And the fried butter. And the fried Kool-Aid which, frankly, seems to defy the basic laws of physics.

I can’t imagine why some countries think Americans are gross. Why wouldn’t you want a fried pastry dipped in sugared glaze on a meat patty topped with bacon and cheese? Otherwise known as the meal that killed your cholesterol dead.

After the corn dogs, we were in need of a funnel cake. Especially since I’d been thinking about them ever since I saw that truck on the way to Houston. I didn’t get a picture of it because we ate it too fast and if I had taken a picture of the scene it would have been reminiscent of a pack of hyenas with a fresh kill on one of those nature shows.

But Steph decided to try the fried peanut butter and jelly. And I’m here to tell you, it was the sleeper of the day. DELICIOUS. Warm peanut butter? Check. Perfect ratio of jelly? Check. Crispy, fried coating topped with powdered sugar? CHECK.

It was a culinary triumph.

And also the likely reason I had to use soap and water to get my wedding rings off after I got home. Of course the Texas Twisters may have also played a role.

But totally worth it.