Author: Big Mama

Ever since I heard that Sherman Helmsley died yesterday I’ve wanted to make the obvious “Well, he moved on up” joke on Twitter and refrained because I felt like it might be immature and insensitive. But apparently I am both because I just wrote it. Or maybe it’s just that I have a deep, lasting love for sitcoms of the 70s. Given the fact I can still remember my favorite episodes of The Jeffersons I’m choosing to go with this theory.

(Remember the one when Tom and Helen shared with George and Weeze what they learned in marriage counseling and they all ended up hitting each other with those inflatable bat things?)

(More importantly, can you tell me why a second grader thought that was so funny?)

So Caroline and P left to go fishing on Sunday afternoon. Which left me with a lot of free time. And even though I had the beginnings of a cold, I couldn’t squander this time so I planned a little girls’ night at the house.

The only problem was that I was running low in the snack department for anyone who doesn’t consider a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios to be an appetizer. And since I wasn’t going to make a huge grocery store trip, I decided to run up to Central Market instead of our normal HEB. For those of you who may not know all the machinations of various Texas grocery stores, HEB is just a regular store with your garden variety of crackers and cereals while Central Market is their upscale cousin where you can buy assorted olives and honey made by bees that live in a hive in the produce department.

That’s not really true about the bees. But I bet it’s only because they haven’t thought of it yet.

I generally don’t allow myself too many trips to Central Market because I tend to get carried away. All of a sudden I think I need to buy Dietzenganger’s Frankfurters instead of Oscar Meyer Weiners or Santa Barbara Pistachios when I didn’t even realize that Santa Barbara was known for its pistachio. And then I walk out of the store significantly poorer than I was when I walked in with only a bag full of organic peaches and freshly made ricotta cheese to comfort me.

This trip was no exception. I stumbled right into cheese-tasting day. And I was hungry which didn’t help matters. The next thing I knew I had three blocks of cheese with names I can’t even pronounce in my cart along with a bag of prosciutto that was allegedly flown in from Italy that very morning and contained no MSG even though I didn’t realize there was an MSG issue with prosciutto. I also got suckered in by the crackers that they served it on. It was the most delicious combination I’d ever tasted.

Then I journeyed over to the bakery section which always proves to be my kryptonite because FRESH BAKED COOKIES! FRENCH BREAD! CHOCOLATE CROISSANTS! but was mercifully distracted when a woman turned from where she was trying to decide between the Pain Meunier or a Couronne Bordelaise and yelled at her children, “WOLFGANG! LILLITH! ELI!”

I thought maybe I heard wrong. But I guess Wolfgang wasn’t paying attention because she yelled again, “WOLFGANG! LILLITH! ELI!” and the kids went scurrying over to her decked out head to toe in their organic cotton ensembles. And that’s when I came back to reality and remembered I’m not really cool enough to buy Couronne Bordelaise at Central Market. Largely because I have no idea what that even is. And also because I have a child named Caroline and we like Kraft cheese and think the Pepperidge Farm Milanos are a fancy cookie.

But I still wanted my cheeses. So I took them up to the cashier and walked out of there with $40 worth of cheese I didn’t even know I wanted along with some crackers that would make a Triscuit cry.

(By the way, if P is reading this I just want him to know that I didn’t really spend $40 on cheese. That would be absurd. It was only $15.)

So Sunday night was fun. I’m sure it was at least partly due to the cheese plate even though I realized part of what made the cheese and prosciutto so tasty was the nice woman in Central Market who sliced it all up and served it to me. And she was nowhere to be found in my kitchen.

There was also a low point when I referred to the Siri feature on my phone as Suri. Which is a sure sign I’ve devoted way too much time and attention to Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. And I didn’t even watch The Bachelorette until Monday morning. It brought me much joy that Emily chose Jef because I think they could actually make it for the long term whereas I felt like she and Arie would burn out fast. European race car drivers are good husbands in theory but maybe not in reality. Actually, I’m not sure that they’re even good husband material in theory along with megastars who made gazillions starring as cocky fighter pilots named Maverick.

In addition to the fact she chose Jef, I was also encouraged to see that Emily made an attempt to bring back the denim shirt tied at the waist. This is a trend I have missed terribly since it’s demise in the mid-90s and between that and the fact that ABC chose to play Glory of Love by Peter Cetera as the EMILY AND JEF ARE ENGAGED montage made me feel like the future is bright since at least some of us haven’t forgotten what made this country great.

It’s denim shirts and the theme song from Karate Kid II.

That’s what made this country great.

It certainly wasn’t cheese with names you can’t pronounce with a side of bread that insists on being called “pain”.

On Sunday P and Caroline left to drive to the coast for a little fishing trip. I stayed home because I’m generally not a fan of getting on a boat while it’s still dark in search of fish.

But I’d say based on this picture that Caroline feels completely different.

I think she’s a fan.

And on an entirely different note, I wrote a post about my thoughts on the new Dallas over at Ree’s if you want to read it.

But no pressure.

Well.

All I can say is that y’all probably need to say a prayer of thanks that I didn’t blog over the last few days because it might have been full of a vast array of complaints starting with I CAN’T SLEEP and WHY ARE MY HORMONES SO CRAZY? and ending with I HAVE A COLD AND CAN’T BREATHE.

Just a ray of sunshine.

The week started off so well. I arrived in Nashville without any glitches and, though it was an hour I consider way too early for respectable society, I managed to put on my best game face and by the time I was drinking coffee with my friend Paige in a cute little Nashville coffee shop at 9:00 a.m. I was actually feeling pretty good about life.

I mean, after all, I’d packed, gotten dressed, driven to the airport, found a parking place, read all about the latest in the TomKat divorce and arrived in a whole different state before 8:45 a.m. I’d accomplished more by noon than I usually do in four days. And if you doubt the validity of that statement then clearly you haven’t been following the TomKat situation. It’s a lot of information to process.

The time in Nashville was great. Sophie and I spent most of Wednesday filming the intro video to the DotMom Conference and I think it’s going to be good. Not because of our acting skills or anything like that, but because the LifeWay Crew is brilliant and sets us up to look so much better than we are. Our director, Seth, even talks us through places in the script where he’s just written “Sophie and Melanie make funny jokes”.

Because do you know how much pressure that brings? Just retyping the phrase “Make funny jokes” is enough to make me curl up in the fetal position. Mainly because it brings me back to a time about four years ago when LifeWay asked Sophie and I to entertain the crowd with “witty banter” on the floor of the Alamodome while women were waiting to see Beth Moore and the best I could come up with for an opening line was “So. How did y’all sleep last night?”

You would have to drive a million miles out to the middle of nowhere to hear more quiet than we did in that arena. That’s why we always remind each other to “REMEMBER THE ALAMODOME”.

Anyway, after a day of filming we met some friends for dinner at a new trendy restaurant in Nashville called Urban Grub. The macaroni and cheese was delicious and I tried not to remember that I’d spent much of the filming talking about the benefits of the Paleo diet with one of the crew members. In case you’re wondering, macaroni and cheese is the polar opposite of the Paleo diet. Macaroni and cheese would have killed a caveman.

And then we went to Jeni’s ice cream shop where I ate the most perfect ice cream cone I’ve ever had. EVER. Sadly, they only have Jeni’s shops in Ohio and Tennessee which is kind of far from Texas. However, I did just search the google and discovered you can get it at a shop in Gruene which is only 45 minutes away and so I may drive there tomorrow.

Remember back in January when I was basically just eating kale?

I have fallen off the wagon.

On Thursday morning I flew back to San Antonio and that’s when I just fell apart. I hadn’t slept that great while I was away and we’d been on a non-stop schedule and I’d had allergies and I guess it all caught up to me because I collapsed in a heap on the couch and basically didn’t move again for days.

Caroline spent all last week going to day camp which kind of worked out since I was gone. I had been a little worried about missing it because she is a big fan of getting her face painted every morning to match the various themes, but fortunately P picked up the face-painting gauntlet and ran with it. In fact, he exceeded my skills.

That’s a wave. With a surfer. With a mohawk.

I would have just painted a flower and called it good.

And then he was naturally skilled at doing the camo face paint. I think her counselors actually might have lost her in the woods this day.

But I was home in time for the last day and so I pulled out my strongest face-painting game and went with the blue mask effect.

Friday night we drove up to camp for closing ceremonies and this picture totally sums up how Caroline felt.

She was wiped out. And had come down with a cold.

So Saturday we cancelled plans we’d made for dinner and spent all day on the couch watching movies in our pajamas. It might have been the best day I’ve had in forever.

Actually, scratch that. It was unequivocally the best day I’ve had in forever.

And now you’re all caught up.

Except I cut all my ailments and complaints in half.

Which I know makes you want to heave a big sigh of relief because, yes, there could have been more.

So when I got home on Saturday I kissed my driveway and vowed I wouldn’t leave again for a long, long time. And then I remembered that I’m flying to Nashville on Tuesday. Which is today if you’re reading this after midnight and you are because I’m auto-posting it to go up after midnight.

Not only am I flying to Nashville, I’m leaving on a 6:45 a.m. flight. For those of you doing the math at home that means I have to leave my house at 5:30.

Rumor has it that it’s still dark at 5:30.

I wouldn’t know because it’s an hour I try desperately to avoid.

In case you’re wondering, I’m going to Nashville to film a little intro video for the DotMom Conference that will be in Birmingham, Alabama on September 21-22. You can find out more about it if you click over to the DotMom page.

(I mean you can find out more about DotMom, not the intro video I’m filming because I have no idea what it’s going to involve. Other than bad acting.)

And I’ve learned in all my travels that it really helps to pack a bag full of clothes when you fly somewhere but that still hasn’t motivated me to get to the actual packing portion of my trip preparation. I keep hoping that a house elf will show up and pack my bags and my owl for me.

(Shout out to Harry Potter.)

Anyway, I’ve made the executive decision to not bring my computer with me. I don’t think I’ll really have time to use it and it just seems like one more thing I have to drag through security and I don’t want to mess with it.

What I’m saying is I’m not going to blog again until Friday.

So I’ll see you then. Unless you happen to be on my 6:45 a.m. flight to Nashville. But, let’s be honest, I’ll be functioning at about one quarter capacity at that hour. And possibly resting my head on a stranger’s shoulder while I sleep. That shouldn’t be awkward.

Y’all have a great week.