Author: Big Mama

  • Paint is the word

    I knew going into this past weekend that we had absolutely no plans other than Caroline’s first soccer game and I could not have been more delighted at the lameness of our social calendar. And I’ll have you know that it lived up to my expectations. It was everything I dreamed of and so much more. There were naps on the couch, movies, rain, college football, Mexican food, naps on the couch, college football, more rain, and barbecue.

    And more naps on the couch.

    Other than the fact that the Aggies came within minutes of losing to Florida International University, it was perfection.

    (If you’re thinking to yourself, “Florida International University? I’ve never heard of them.” Yes. That’s my point.)

    On Friday afternoon I pulled up to pick up Caroline from school and noticed that the Kona Ice Cream truck had descended on the premises. It’s not that I begrudge the Kona Ice Cream man the American dream and capitalism in the form of school children begging their mamas for snow cones. I admire his business savvy. I bet he got an A in his Marketing 301 class, unlike someone else I may know.

    The problem is that the Kona Ice Cream truck only takes cash. And I never have cash. And so I’m forced to dig in every corner of my purse and the floorboards of the stay wag in the hopes of coming up with $2.00. Fortunately I had a stockpile of quarters hiding out in my makeup bag because Caroline was so excited to see the truck across from the playground playing “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” that she tripped and fell as she walked out of school. Normally this would turn into a scene out of a Greek tragedy but SNOW CONES.

    We met up with some of her other friends at the truck and somehow I ended up with a car full of four seven-year-old girls all hyped up on snow cone syrup and the thrill of a Friday afternoon. They came over to the house where they spent the next two hours ridding my pantry of Halloween Oreos and trying to break the sound barrier. At one point they were loud enough to scare our dog Scout. Which is saying something because he didn’t even hear me open a bag of Sun Chips last week.

    Saturday morning marked the fall debut of the Cheetah Girls. You will notice that we are sporting some sassy maroon uniforms this year.

    Some people thought we chose maroon on purpose because we’re Aggies, but the truth is that P went to the meeting and the other coaches grabbed the pink and the purple first.

    And it turns out the maroon fits us this season because the Cheetah Girls came to play. They were fierce.

    The game ended just as the rain started and we spent the rest of the afternoon hanging out at the house. Which gave me a lot of time to look at my turquoise kitchen and contemplate all my complex feelings regarding both the color and if I had the strength to paint it all over again because OH THE TRIMWORK AND CABINETRY THAT HAS TO BE TAPED OFF.

    Ultimately I think the turquoise kitchen has been like a summer romance. It was good in theory, but we just didn’t have what it took to make it last. We were too different. We wanted different things. We were headed different directions.

    We were like Sandy and Danny.

    “I’m going back to Australia; I might never see you again”

    “Don’t talk that way, Sandy”

    “Is this the end?”

    “Of course not; it’s only the beginning”

    Except it is the end because the turquoise kitchen, no matter how pretty the color may be, doesn’t fit with the rest of the house. And part of me wishes I could change the rest of the house to match the turquoise kitchen but who can afford all those hot pink neon signs that say “TACO TUESDAY!” or “CERVEZA!”

    So I’m all “What happened to the turquoise I met at the beach?” and “You’re a fake and a phony and I wish I never laid eyes on you”.

    And then I throw down my pom-poms, stomp off in tears and end up spending the night with the girls where I let Frenchie attempt to pierce my ears using only a needle and an ice cube.

    Except none of that actually happened.

    Instead, I took Caroline with me to Home Depot yesterday and I bought sixty-four rolls of painters’ tape to tape off the entire kitchen and a gallon of Martha Stewart’s chocolate truffle paint. Then I spent part of the afternoon removing switch plates and taping off everything that I didn’t want to become chocolate truffle.

    And now it looks like this.

    Because you didn’t actually think I got to the painting part, did you?

    Looking at that photo makes me realize I should probably take the pictures off the wall before I get started.

    Which will happen later today.

    Because today?

    We rumble.

    Or we paint.

    Or whatever.

  • Fashion Friday: Edition to thine own self be true

    This is probably going to be the least wordy Fashion Friday in history because I am tired and I have got to get some sleep and I have to run in the morning because if I don’t do it then I will never run again. I don’t understand why that’s the way my mind works, but yet it is who I am.

    So, just a few things before I share ten cute things I’ve seen this week. The first is that I can’t believe I’ve warmed up to the bootie. The second is that I can’t believe how wrong the previous sentence sounds. And the third is that I tried on a pair of jeggings last week and came to the conclusion that just because something appears right on someone else doesn’t mean it’s right for me.

    I cannot do the jegging.

    Ironically, I think I can do the bootie.

    But I’m not going to declare the jegging off-limits to everyone. I have seen several people (mainly people who eat three grains of rice a day and run eight miles) who look darling in the jeggings. I just couldn’t get past the fact that it felt like I was wearing leggings, but then I looked down to what is merely a faux denim. It seemed like pure madness.

    My point is that you can’t let trends dictate your style. Find things that work for you and that you feel comfortable in and incorporate whatever trends you can live with on your person. There is no need to walk around feeling like you’re wearing a costume.

    Or pajamas made out of denim.

    Here are my picks for the week. There are no pictures. I humbly apologize but I just couldn’t get it done this week. Try to tell yourself that it’s better than nothing. Or click away and it can truly be nothing. Whatever works for you.

    That’s my theme this week.

    1. Hive and Honey Flower Ring

    This ring is adorable. And it’s gold. And I have a crush on gold right now.

    2. Cloud Nine Hobo

    I’m still on the search for a fall/winter purse. This one is a contender.

    3. Caught My Attention Top

    LOVE. There is nothing trendier right now than some sequins. This would look so great paired under a black boyfriend blazer or a cool leather jacket.

    4. Asymmetrical Hem Tee

    I would wear this everyday.

    5. Cowl Neck Sweater Dress

    I am on the hunt for a great sweater dress to wear with tights or leggings with boots. It’s not always an easy thing to have because you need something that will fit just right. You do not want a sweater dress that hugs your booty.

    Not to be confused with your bootie.

    6. Karima Leather Boots

    Speaking of bootie, I love these boots from Target and they are a great deal. I lived in my tall brown boots last winter.

    It’s true. I was the old woman who lived in a shoe. Except it was a boot.

    I also love these Journee Rope Detail Booties. See what the fashion industry does to you? Two years ago I saw booties and gasped in horror. But now they’ve worn me down and I think they’re cute.

    Well played, fashion industry. Well played.

    7. Open Chunky Knit Cardigan

    I have a sickness. I cannot have enough of these in all colors and versions and textures in my closet.

    8. Chambray Work Shirt

    I can’t believe I’m back to a place in life where I want a Chambray shirt.

    Again, well played, fashion industry.

    9. Gypsy Hoops

    Love these. So cute and you know how I feel about gold.

    10. Fields of Roses Embroidered Dress

    I probably wouldn’t wear this as a dress. Well, maybe with tights. But I’d definitely wear it with leggings or skinny jeans and my brown boots.

    That’s it for today.

    Y’all have a great Friday.

  • Maybe Halloween Oreos are the key

    I’ve no doubt that you will all be relieved to know that W.C. Fields has been captured. They found him at some kind of Concept Therapy Institute which appears to be a place designed to help people deal with stress. Clearly life at the monkey compound got to be too much for him. I wonder if it was helping his child study for a spelling test that finally pushed him over the edge and made him seek out mental help?

    So I never managed to write about what we did last weekend. And, honestly, consider yourself spared because it was a lot of blah, blah, blah with some boring and college football squeezed in for good measure.

    But there was one moment that I wanted to record for posterity.

    We ended up spending Saturday afternoon over at Gulley’s house. The kids played in the backyard while we solved several of the world’s most serious problems. At one point I even offered to pay them a nickel for every stick they picked up out of the yard because I harbored some grand delusions about turning them into a fall centerpiece for my dining room table.

    Jackson and Caroline were all over this. They picked up every stick they could find. As opposed to Will who looked me dead in the eye and said, “I hate nickels.” Caroline told me later that he told her he hated money and she declared that his wife was “GOING TO BE SAD ABOUT THAT”.

    Preach it, sister.

    Anyway, around 4:00, Gulley’s husband announced that he was going to go dove hunting and said the boys could go with him if they wanted to. Will immediately jumped at the chance and ran to his room to put on his favorite shark t-shirt before he rethought that decision due to his concern that the shark would scare away all the doves.

    Jackson initially said he wanted to go as well, but I’d also told him he could come over to our house for dinner so he and Caroline could hang out a little longer. He was torn. It was an eight year old version of Sophie’s Choice and he declared that he was going to flip a coin to make his decision.

    Caroline yelled out that she wanted to be tails as Jackson found a quarter in Gulley’s purse. He flipped the coin, looked at it, and Gulley and I both watched as he nonchalantly flipped it over to where it revealed tails as opposed to heads. He said, “Looks like I’m going home with y’all”.

    And so he did.

    We ate dinner and dipped mass quantities of Halloween Oreos in glasses of milk until Gulley came to pick him up around 8:30.

    Caroline has no idea what an achievement it is to get a boy to stay home and hang out with her instead of going hunting.

    It’s a feat I’ve never managed to pull off in thirteen years of marriage.

  • Totally righteous workout mix redux

    I cannot believe I am going with that title, but it made me laugh when I typed it out and so it’s a stayin’.

    And I feel like I need to state upfront that I realize this is at least the third time I’ve written a post about songs I listen to while I work out. In my defense, at least two of you asked for it after I admitted to the convoluted list of songs I listened to in the car on my way home from Kerrville. Not to mention that I have to constantly rotate my workout playlist because I need new music to drown out the voice screaming in my head, “STOP RUNNING, YOU FOOL. YOU’RE GOING TO DIE.”

    That voice also likes to yell, “THE HEAT! MY WORD, THE HEAT!”

    She’s a total drama queen.

    So here is my list of songs for the current week. If you’re keeping track, I’m on Week 3, Day 3. I think I lost a day in there somewhere but I can’t think about it for too long or it makes my head start to spin because it feels like a math problem.

    1. Undignified – David Crowder Band

    I like to start with a little upbeat praise music. This is what I listen to during my five minute warmup.

    2. Tik Tok – Ke$ha

    And then I quickly digress to waking in the morning feeling like P. Diddy. I’m sorry. It has a good beat and I can dance to it. Or run to it. Or whatever.

    3. 4 Minutes – Madonna with Justin Timberlake

    This is on every workout mix I have. The real key to this song’s success is Justin Timberlake. Obviously.

    4. California Gurls – Katy Perry

    I don’t even know what to say. I have sophisticated taste in music.

    5. Circus– Britney Spears

    I’m just being honest.

    6. Your Love is My Drug – Ke$ha

    I find it ironic that I have two songs by Ke$ha on this list and I couldn’t point her out in a crowd. Nor did I even know she existed until about two months ago. I also cannot explain why she spells her name with a $, but I may start doing the same thing.

    It’s very cla$$y.

    7. Mine – Taylor Swift

    And this is when my cool down section begins and the lady that lives inside my iPhone lets me know that I can stop running and live to see another day. This is a happy moment for me and deserves a happy song.

    8. How He Loves – David Crowder Band

    Do you love how I bookend with David Crowder? I’d like to say there’s some strategy to it, but I just like to end my workout with this song because it gets the rest of my day off to a good start. A reminder that I am loved in spite of the fact that I look like Ed McMahon by the time I get home.

    Why Ed McMahon?

    Why not?

    And that’s my list. If you have some great song suggestions, leave them in the comments. I’m always looking for new ones and you’ve probably realized by now that I’ll listen to anything. Even Barry Manilow. Because he writes the songs that make the whole world sing.

    On a related note, several of you emailed me the news clip about the woman in San Antonio who was trapped in her garage by a spider monkey. Apparently the monkey, also known as W.C. Fields for reasons I don’t understand, is still at large.

    I’m just going to go on record and state that if I am confronted by a spider monkey during my morning workout, the Couch to 5K program will be dead to me forever.

    And heaven help that monkey if it shows up at our house. P would have that thing shot, stuffed and placed in our bathroom to hold rolls of toilet paper in its little taxidermied arms before it ever knew what hit it.

    We don’t take kindly to monkey intimidation around these parts.

    ___________________________________________

    There is a new Kellogg’s post up on my giveaway page. Click over there for a chance to win $100 gift card.

  • The importance of a marketable skill

    Yesterday morning I drove to Kerrville to speak to a MOPS group.

    (This is where I’d like to insert my standard joke about how P likes to call it “Mothers Against Preschoolers” but I’m pretty sure that I’ve already made that comment about fifteen different times here. Not to mention that I referenced it in my talk yesterday. I need some new material.)

    I talked about the challenges of being a mother and felt a little bit like MY LIFE IS SO HARD WITH MY SOLITARY SEVEN-YEAR-OLD CHILD WHO DRESSES AND FEEDS HERSELF because, seriously, if there is a group of women who are singlehandedly populating the Earth, it’s the women in MOPS groups. I mean they are smack dab in the thick of potty-training a toddler while fighting morning sickness and hoping their oldest child doesn’t cry during the Kindergarten drop-off. They make me weep with envy at the thought of their multi-tasking skills. Mainly because I operate on an organizational system that consists of sixteen different Post-It notes with important dates written on them shoved into the bottom of my purse.

    Anyway, I offered my limited amount of wisdom with the disclaimer that my child is only seven years old and the verdict is still out on how this whole thing is going to turn out. Then I got in my car and drove back to San Antonio and listened to the following songs over the next hour:

    The Happy Song by Chris Tomlin
    Jesus Saves by Travis Cottrell
    Peaceful, Easy Feeling by The Eagles
    Heart of Glass by Blondie
    Wanted: Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi
    Jolene by Dolly Parton
    Gold Digger by Kanye West
    Our God by Chris Tomlin
    Looks Like We Made It by Barry Manilow

    I feel like something about this list speaks volumes about my personality, but frankly I’m frightened to examine it too closely.

    As soon as I got back to the house I crawled over to the couch and slept for about an hour. Mainly because I didn’t sleep at all the night before because I never sleep the night before I have to be somewhere important. It’s a sickness. And I usually take down every one around me because P didn’t sleep either thanks to all my deep sighs and fake coughs and tossing and turning.

    I am a joy to live with.

    Finally it was time to pick up Caroline from school and we went to Gap to buy her a new pair of jeans because she is dying to wear jeans even though it’s still 146 degrees outside and her legs have grown about seventeen inches since last spring.

    My goal for tomorrow is to clean my house from top to bottom. I’ve been putting it off for about the last week because I get so overwhelmed with the thought of having to clean two bathrooms. I KNOW. It’s pathetic.

    But when we moved in this house thirteen years ago, it was only a three bedroom, one bath house. Apparently people didn’t spend a lot of time in the bathroom in the 1920’s. Probably because the curling iron hadn’t been invented.

    (Please don’t email me to tell me that the curling iron had been invented. It may have been for all I know but it’s late and I’m too tired to look it up on Wikipedia or the Google.)

    The point is that for six years I just had to clean one small bathroom. Then we moved out and added a master bedroom and bathroom. For those of you playing at home, that means we moved on up Jefferson style to two bathrooms total. But it didn’t matter because I had a baby two weeks after we moved back in and we hired a maid to do all the cleaning.

    I’ll be honest. It was a blissful existence. But then I quit my job three and a half years ago and we had to tighten the proverbial belt and the maid had to go. And now I can never face the task of cleaning my house without feeling complete dread at the the thought of those two bathrooms, one of which has a shower stall AND a bathtub. OH THE HUMANITY.

    Truth be told, we could probably work a maid back into our budget at this point, but I haven’t done it on principle. I should have time to clean my own house. I have one child in school all day and no real job. Well, technically, I guess I kind of have a job as a writer but it looks eerily similar to just sitting around in my pajamas all day looking at Twitter.

    Although during our road trip with the kids this summer, Gulley’s son Jackson declared that I didn’t have a job and Gulley was quick to defend me with “She writes. That’s what she does.” And from the back seat, her youngest son, Will, piped up and said, “AND SHE BUILDS FLOATS FOR FIESTA“.

    I’m totally putting that on my next resume.

  • The wild one

    Last Thursday, Caroline came home from school and said, “Mama, the problem with my teacher is that she doesn’t understand some girls are just wild. And I’m one of them”.

    Yes.

    Yes she is.

    I’m planning on recapping our entire weekend tomorrow (I know! How will you sleep until then? THE SUSPENSE!) but the Compassion bloggers flew home from Guatemala yesterday and I wanted to share the links to my favorite posts from their trip. They are too good to miss.

    Joy by Amanda (If the picture of her with her new Guatemalan family doesn’t make you feel complete happiness, then I don’t know what to tell you.)

    The one question you’ve got to look in the mirror and really ask by Ann Voskamp

    When God comes by by Shaun Groves (Do not miss the video at the end.)

    Reconciling the disparity by Lindsey Nobles

    Lame sponsors of the world unite! by Lisa-Jo

    Treasures in the dark by Patricia Jones

    And, last but not least, do not miss the photos by the amazingly talented Keely Scott. Her pictures bring life and depth to every word the bloggers write while they’re on the trip.

    I also just want to say that I don’t link to these posts because of any obligation I have to Compassion. They don’t ask me to link or anything like that. I do it because I was able to see firsthand the difference they make in the lives of kids that would otherwise be forgotten when I went to the Dominican Republic two years ago. There honestly isn’t an organization that I believe in more. They are the hands and feet of Christ and they give you the chance to be the same.

    And that’s all I have to say about that.