Author: Big Mama

Yesterday was my day to run errands. Needless to say, you should prepare yourself for all the excitement.

I had to meet my new upholstery guy at his shop at 10:00 a.m. so he could show me all my different foam options for the bottom cushions. I think I forgot to mention that I’m not just getting slipcovers made, but also getting the bottom cushions rebuilt because how would you look if someone had sat on you every day for the last nine years?

I realize at this point you might be wondering why I didn’t just get a new couch. Or maybe you’ve died of boredom. Either way, the answer is that our couch has a slight curve to it that makes it the perfect shape for our somewhat awkward living room layout. And the only other couch I’d really want is this gorgeous leather couch from Restoration Hardware that would require us to take out a second mortgage on the house. And then we might end up living on the street, sleeping on a perfectly weathered, sumptuous leather couch.

Anyway, I had to go look at foam like I’m some sort of foam expert. It basically consisted of me pushing my hand down on various foam samples and saying, “Oh” in what I hope was an authoritative tone. New Upholstery Guy informed me that the original foam used in my couch cushions wasn’t nearly thick enough and was wrapped in a lot of dacron to compensate which is why my cushions have broken down.

And here I thought they’d broken down because they’ve been subjected to almost a decade of being spilled on and hopped on and turned into a makeshift fort. It’s been enough to bring me close to a breakdown and why should I expect more than that from my couch?

So we decided (He decided. I just stood there nodding like a total foam fraud.) on a much thicker foam for the new and improved cushions. I feel good about it.

After I left there I had to stop and fill up my car with gas. And that’s when my day got slightly more interesting.

(I know. You’re thinking HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? I mean, I picked out foam. A thicker foam than I’ve had before. You’d think the day hit a peak at that point. Understandably so.)

I pulled up at the gas pump and immediately noticed the car across from mine was an ancient station wagon piled TO THE BRIM with all manner of newspapers and trash and I don’t know what else because I was afraid to look for fear of seeing a dead body. I got out of my car and began to pump gas and perform my gas station ritual of throwing out all the empty Capri Suns and Gatorade bottles that have accumulated in my backseat since the last time I filled up.

And that’s when the owner of the station wagon filled with a possible dead body asked me about the t-shirt I was wearing. It’s the “Arise Africa” shirt that I wear about four times a week because it’s the softest shirt ever.

(Side note: Arise Africa is my friend A.J.’s ministry in Zambia. You’ll be hearing more about it in a week or so.)

And so he asked if my shirt said Arise Africa. I confirmed that it did. So he followed up by asking if I was in the Peace Corps. Because, clearly, I look like the Peace Corps type in my Nike running shorts and Volvo station wagon with soccer balls piled in the back.

I told him I wasn’t and then he told me that his daughter was delivered by a doctor from Africa who ended up killing his wife (not this man’s wife, his own wife) but that shouldn’t really matter because he was still a good doctor. Well, sure he was. Why hold a little thing like, oh I don’t know, MURDER against him?

It just seemed like a lot of information to relay to a stranger at the gas pump and was, frankly, so much more than I wanted to know. And since I’m so good in awkward situations, I mumbled something like “Well, that’s nice. Have a good day.” and then quickly got back in my car.

I made my way to HEB to buy groceries because I never really made a trip to the store last week and we were down to the bare essentials. Caroline’s lunch yesterday was basically a thing of mandarin oranges that I said a blessing over in the hope they would be fruitful and multiply.

(Get it? Fruitful?)

It is with great sadness that I tell you our HEB is still totally torn up. The cheese is still in the front of the store. But then there are other cheeses in the back of the store. And it took me a sweet forever to find the butter and sour cream.

However, I think I’ve figured out the issue. It’s because we just got that new Target complete with a grocery store AND we’re getting a Trader Joe’s. I suspect HEB is trying to fancy things up to hold our interest.

Which is nice and all, but FOR THE LOVE I just want all my cheese to be in one place.

And to not hear about murder at the gas station.

It doesn’t take much to make me happy. Especially now that I’m about to have the best foam ever on my couch.

Well.

As much as I hate it that the Aggies lost to LSU in a game that we could have won if not for five turnovers, two missed field goals and a missed extra point (I’m depressed all over again after typing that sentence) it might be for the best.

This is the time in a football season when my expectations are lowered and I don’t spend my whole week on football message boards analyzing all the data trying to figure out if we can beat LSU. This is the time that reality sets in and I can just watch the rest of the games with a healthy interest that doesn’t border on psychotic crazy woman with the shakes who screams at nineteen year old boys on the T.V. like they can hear me.

Had we won the game against LSU, I would have had at least two more weeks of football-induced stress filled with delusions of beating Alabama and the whole thing probably would have resulted in a stomach ulcer. The way I see it, the Aggies have saved me thousands in medical bills.

Yes. I realize I have a problem.

Anyway, we had a busy weekend around here. One of those weekends that kind of makes me glad it’s Monday so that I can get some rest and relax a little bit.

On Friday, I picked up Gulley’s boys from school and then picked up Caroline. Gulley met us back at my house and we attempted to catch up on all the events of the week since we’d pretty much been going in different directions for days and our communication had consisted of eighty-four three minute conversations.

But then the upholstery guy showed up to pick up my couch. I’ve been attempting to have white slipcovers made for the couch since June but couldn’t get my normal upholstery guy to call me back and had to find someone new. And so the new guy showed up on Friday afternoon and loaded my couch up in the back of a truck.

Let’s hope he really owns an upholstery business and this wasn’t just some elaborate sham to steal my ten-year-old couch with goldfish cracker remnants in every cushion.

After the couch made its exit, my friend Michelle arrived at the house. She came to spend the weekend with us. I greeted her with the news that we were babysitting Gulley’s boys for the night and had a big evening ahead filled with dinner at EZ’s and maybe ice cream at Baskin-Robbins. Oh, and by the way, we’ll be sitting on the floor of my living room all weekend because someone may or may not have stolen my couch.

It’s no wonder she wanted to spend the weekend with me. We show our guests a super good time.

Sure enough, we took the kids to EZ’s and then Baskin-Robbins. And while Will sat next to me eating his ice cream, he said, “Mel, do you know what would be the saddest thing in the whole world?”

“What?”

“If my mom had never met you because then I wouldn’t know you either.”

Melt my heart.

Have I ever mentioned that Will is a smooth talker? We fully expect that someday girls will be lined up around the block trying to make him their own.

(In the interest of full disclosure, I believe he only told me this because I’d just let him get Skittles AND Gummie Bears in his ice cream.)

We came back home and I piled a bunch of blankets and quilts on the living room floor in an attempt to make a faux couch for the kids to sit on while they watched a movie. It must have been comfortable because Will and Jackson were asleep in about ten minutes flat. But Wakey Wakerson, otherwise known as my child, lasted through the whole movie because she has programmed herself to never EVER fall asleep until it’s absolutely necessary.

On Saturday morning Caroline had a soccer game on the other side of town. To quote one of the dads on the team, it was a real goat rodeo getting out there. I spent my time at the game watching Caroline play her heart out and avoiding looking at my phone because the A&M started at 11:00 and I was worried someone would text me a spoiler.

Sadly, Caroline’s team lost but she had a great game.

(Michelle took this picture which explains why it’s good. I didn’t take any pictures because I was in the midst of my communication blackout due to the Aggie game. Mother of the year.)

When the game was over we got in the car and drove to Gulley’s house as fast as we could because she’d recorded the game and they were waiting on us to start watching it. She’d also bought an entire platter of Chick-Fil-A nuggets. Which is one of the reasons she’s my best friend.

With great anticipation, we started the game. And we were ecstatic. We were jubilant. There was jumping up and down. Maybe even a few fist pumps.

And then…

Gloom.

Despair.

And agony on me.

Deep, dark depression. Excessive misery.

But the chicken nuggets were delicious. And I actually avoided all social media, texts, etc. for over five hours which has to be some sort of personal record. It almost killed me. Not because of all the interaction but because I’m not really a girl who enjoys suspense and I knew that one look at the Twitter and I could know exactly how the whole thing ended.

So that was that.

On Sunday, Caroline had the chance to be a ball girl for the Incarnate Word’s women’s soccer team. And I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but real soccer games are long. That was basically our Sunday afternoon, but she had a great time.

(After this picture was taken, Caroline gave me an “Okay, MOM” with a wave of her hand like she was shooing an annoying bug. It was a tender moment.)

After that I dropped her off at a friend’s house where she’s part of a girls’ Bible study and I came home and sat on our “couch” to relax until Caroline got home. And somehow I ended up falling asleep because when your couch isn’t so much a couch as it is a pile of blankets with pillows all over it, well, I challenge you to not end up in a semi-comatose state. Possibly drooling.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if my couch really was absconded by a couch thief. I could leave my
living room like this forever. Get some cement blocks to put the T.V. on. Maybe a mini-fridge in the corner.

Sure, it might look like a fraternity house, but think of all the great naps I could take.

Listen.

We just finished another homework marathon. This time involving geometry. Which, thankfully, Caroline knows how to do without any assistance from me. However, I don’t know if it’s better when she knows all the answers and spends thirty extra minutes doing all her little victory song and dances in her chair while saying “This is SO EASY!” like she’s one of the stars of the classic 1983 movie “Valley Girl” or when she can’t figure something out and rails against the entire educational system, the Texas government and the harsh realities of life in general.

It’s a toss up.

Either way, my brain is tired. And my lip is bleeding from biting it all the times I wanted to yell, “JUST FINISH YOUR HOMEWORK”.

The point is I’m not capable of composing any sort of essay about anything and will instead just throw out some random pieces of information.

1. Several of you have mentioned Tami Taylor’s new show, Nashville. Yes, I watched. And, YES, I loved it. I didn’t want the first episode to end because not only am I fascinated by Tami’s hair, but I enjoyed the general storyline and have found myself thinking about it several times since.

My only real issue is that she isn’t married to Coach Eric Taylor and living in Dillon, Texas.

But other than that? LOVE.

(I also realize her real name is Connie Britton. But she’ll always be Tami to me. Always.)

2. And while we’re on the subject of Tami Taylor, have y’all seen this?

3. Also, on the subject of hair, I have a new favorite hair product. It’s called Kenra Thermal Styling Spray.

I discovered it because my friend, Vanessa, has the most amazing hair. Like Tami Taylor’s, but maybe better if that’s possible. And so, because I’m so quick on my feet, it finally occurred to me that I should ask her what she uses on her hair. The answer was Kenra Thermal Styling Spray.

Not even kidding, I sprayed it on my hair while I curled it with the curling iron and still had good curl two days later. TWO DAYS.

4. I wrote a post over at Ree’s about three of my favorite movies that are based on the lives of authors. You can check it out here if you’re interested.

5. P texted me this picture a couple of weeks ago when he and Caroline went fishing. It’s now the wallpaper on my phone because I love it so much.

6. I mentioned that Holly Mathis came to visit a few weeks ago, but never really followed up. Mainly because there hasn’t been much progress on the house front largely due to the fact that we’re still waiting on the holes in the wall to get fixed. Apparently that’s happening next week at the latest and then hopefully everything else will happen really quickly after that because I’m ready for my house to be pretty again.

However, I’d asked Holly if she could help me with something for my dining room table and she found me this great dough bowl while she was at Round Top.

And then I filled it with pumpkins and gourds just like I’d always dreamed. Frankly, I’m almost giddy with the thought of filling it with Christmas ornaments when the time comes.

Imagine how good it will look when I don’t have holes in my walls.

(Also several of you asked about Holly. She does online consultations as well. You can visit her blog for more information.)

7. I’ve decided I’m going to embrace the crockpot this winter. I mean, not literally embrace it because THIRD DEGREE BURNS. But I like the idea of dinner percolating away all day while I do more meaningful things like figure out new ways to fix my hair.

And that’s it for today.

Happy Wednesday.

I don’t want y’all to assume by this title that I’m throwing P out.

Because the truth is I’m keeping him forever. Not only does he take Caroline to school most mornings allowing me a little extra time in my pajamas, but he’s also the only hope she has to have any real help with her fourth grade math homework.

I wish I was joking.

Yesterday she came home with a homework assignment to complete two levels on IXL which is an online math site. The first one was on identifying place values. I can deal with that. I understand tens, thousands and hundred millions place.

But my frustration level started to rise because she was doing a lot of kicking the coffee table and bouncing around and what should have taken fifteen minutes took forty-five minutes.

Serenity now.

And then we finally started the next level which was about converting place values. Honestly, I didn’t even know there was a need to convert a place value. What am I supposed to do? Lead them to Jesus?

If place values need to be converted, then that’s why my iPhone has a calculator. But apparently it’s part of the fourth grade skill set and dang if I could figure it out. Sure, it was fine when it was something like convert four thousands to however many tens. Then it started asking questions that dealt with numbers in the billions and I was all CHECK PLEASE.

Or maybe I was like WINE PLEASE.

I can’t really remember.

Fortunately, Mimi and Bops showed up about that time and I figured Bops would know how to help her with it since he was in the business world for forty years or so. And, yes, he could figure it out but then the IXL kept saying our answers were wrong and OH MY WORD I HATE THE COMPUTER NOW.

Then P came in and knew how to find the answers too, but none of this was really helping Caroline actually learn anything. It basically became thirty minutes of my dad and P coming up with the correct answers while Caroline asked if it was time for soccer practice. And so I finally texted her teacher and basically said that we give up. It beat us. The IXL on converting place values killed us all dead.

The point is this is fourth grade math.

Which means I’m going to have to start saving up for a math tutor for the next eight years. I’d like to think that I used to be smarter than this but then I remember that I failed Algebra II in eleventh grade (a fact I’ll never share with Caroline because ENABLER) and realize numbers have always been my nemesis.

But today was supposed to be about my big closet clean out this weekend. I took five large bags of stuff to Goodwill this afternoon and felt good about myself in that smug way that you do when you’ve accomplished some feat that’s pretty much completely meaningless to anyone else.

Here’s the thing: I think cleaning out your closet twice a year is a necessity. Or maybe it’s just a necessity for me since it’s really the only area of my life where I have the slightest bit of order.

I know I’ve talked about this before but I clean out my closet every fall and every spring. And I’m merciless. I get rid of pretty much anything I haven’t worn in the past year. The exceptions to this are the denim vest I’ve had since 1993, the pair of Levi’s I wore when P and I were dating even though I’ll never wear my jeans that high-waisted ever again because BLECH, and a fifteen-year-old size 2 paisley sundress from Harolds because THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES, SIZE 2.

And so even though the temperatures here are still supposed to get back in the 90s this week, I have now made the transition to my fall/winter closet.

This is the after pic. I didn’t take a before pic because OH THE SHAME.

And this is a closer look at my necklace hanger thing because so many of y’all asked about it.

My friend, Annie Downs, made it for me years ago out of a picture frame and some hooks and screen because she’s basically MacGyver. I adore it because I can easily see most of my accessory options. I say “most” because I still have some other bracelets and such crammed into a dresser drawer because that’s just who I am.

Just for laughs, this is P’s side of the closet. A few years ago my friend Jen was visiting and happened to be in our closet. She asked if I don’t allow P to buy any clothes.

Listen. He is free to buy whatever he wants. It’s not my fault that he thinks a complete wardrobe is comprised of four plaid shirts, a pair of jeans and some Magellan fishing shirts from Academy. I just see it as more of our clothing budget that can go to more important causes like Free People or Anthropologie.

Anyway, I thought I had more to say about cleaning out my closet but apparently the math homework has driven it right out of my head. So I’ll just say it’s a good thing to do. It helps you see what you have that you might’ve forgotten about and figure out if you need anything new to complete an outfit.

And it also might make you feel embarrassed by how many white tank tops you own from Old Navy. But you’ll justify it by reminding yourself that they were only like $3.00 a piece.

Which converts to something like 300 ones in place values.

Or maybe it doesn’t. I wouldn’t really know.