Author: Big Mama

  • They call it the cheese of Asia

    Well, clearly I need to take a tip from Paul Harvey and tell y’all the rest of the story from yesterday’s post about Lee.

    We invited her to our wedding but she was in very poor health and told me she just wasn’t going to be able to make it. Right after we got married, P’s mom moved into my old apartment at Village Oaks because she had recently sold P’s childhood home and hadn’t found a new house yet. She’d been living with P in our townhome in the days leading up to the wedding and so we just switched places. Little did she know she’d be living in Village Oaks for the next year.

    She also didn’t know that a new neighbor had moved in below me who liked to have very loud fights with his girlfriend, which led to my mother-in-law having to resist the daily temptation to catch this young girl in the courtyard, shake her by the shoulders and say, “MOVE ON, SISTER. HE’S BAD NEWS.”

    Anyway, Lee adopted my mother-in-law as her new best friend and they talked daily until Lee’s health became too bad for her to live alone and she moved out of town to be closer to her daughter and ultimately passed away.

    And that’s the rest of the story.

    With a few more details than you probably really care about thrown in for no extra charge.

    In other news, look what I bought at the store yesterday.

    It’s like I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror.

    What happened to that sweet girl who craved nothing more than Fritos and bean dip not even two weeks ago?

    I’ll tell you what happened. She realized she is a mere eleven months away from her 40th birthday and maybe it’s time to think about health and fitness.

    At least for the next few weeks.

    Apparently you can put tofu in a smoothie and it tastes good and adds in protein to get you through the day. I’ll let you know tomorrow if any of that is actually true.

    I have fifty dollars that says it’s not going to be as tasty as bacon and eggs with a side of blueberry pancakes.

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    Post 4 for the Kellogg’s $100 gift card giveaway is posted over on my giveaway page. Click on over for the chance to win $100.

  • Snakes not on the plane

    I always say that the posts I write on Sunday nights are the hardest ones to write. Of course now I’m wondering what I mean when I say I always say that because no one really asks me that question since, odds are good, nobody really cares. So I guess it’s just something I tell myself. And P has to listen to it because he has the misfortune of sitting next to me on the couch while I lament about my inability to come up with anything interesting to say. He usually says something helpful like, “When has that ever stopped you?”.

    He’s hilarious.

    So I went to Virginia this weekend. Originally I thought I’d never been to Virginia before, but then I remembered that I took a class trip to Washington D.C. when I was in eighth grade and we went to Arlington National Cemetery. I also think we may have visited Mount Vernon, although I’m not totally sure since my motivation to go on the trip leaned more towards the social benefits, as opposed to any type of yearning for historic knowledge. However, I do have vivid memories of seeing Fonzie’s leather jacket and Archie Bunker’s chair in the Smithsonian, so it’s not like I didn’t have any grasp of important moments in U.S. history.

    Anyway, I left on Friday morning and arrived in Richmond about 3:00, headed to the coliseum, passed out approximately 15,043 copies of Homelife magazine at the LifeWay booth, wished I’d worn my hair back in a ponytail because I was so hot, listened to Beth teach an amazing lesson from John 1, went back to the Marriott, realized I’d forgotten my sound machine, panicked, remembered I had a white noise app on my phone, tried unsuccessfully to sleep for the next six hours, got out of bed, went back to the coliseum, drove my rental car back to the airport, ate a terrible cheeseburger, bought the new InStyle magazine, and got on the hottest plane I’ve ever been on to fly back to San Antonio.

    It was a lot of stuff to cram into an twenty-four hour time period and I was exhausted.

    P and Caroline picked me up from the airport. They’d spent the day at the ranch and were full of stories involving blood and gore and snakes. We stopped at California Pizza Kitchen to pick up dinner (I’m not sure why you need to know this. We ordered the Sicilian! And the Pepperoni Mushroom!) and as soon as we got home I rolled my suitcase into our bathroom to unpack and change clothes because I suffer from some sort of sickness that compels me to unpack my suitcase the minute I walk through the door. But when I walked in my closet, this is what I saw. Actually, I didn’t see it as much as I just stepped on it because I wasn’t paying attention.

    In case you can’t tell, that’s a huge snakeskin.

    Clearly my family wants me dead.

    To say that I screamed and began to hyperventilate and had a complete out of body experience seems like a bit of an understatement. I ran back into the kitchen in time to see my sweet, precious baby girl doubled over and laughing hysterically. It was all her idea. Honestly, I don’t know that I ever seen her more proud of herself.

    Which is great.

    Except for the fact that I may have to burn down my closet.

  • Fashion Friday: Edition the rest will have to wait until next week

    So I had these grand ambitions to cover at least five of the trends for fall today. But then I remembered that I have to leave my house at 7:00 a.m. and I might want to pack a suitcase some time between now and then. It doesn’t help that it’s also just been one of those days.

    However, I managed to muster the strength to talk about three of the fall trends. I’ll also tell you that Gulley and I went shopping yesterday and both agreed that we felt like we were looking into our closets circa 1991. We even saw a sales girl wearing a lace dress with a denim vest over it. I owned that outfit once upon a time.

    I don’t tell you that with pride.

    1. Boots

    If you’re only going to buy one new thing this fall, I’m going to suggest that it be a pair of boots. And, let me tell you, there are boots galore to choose from.

    There are over-the-knee boots

    And lace-up boots

    And more lace-up boots

    There is the lace-up bootie that makes me feel a little nostalgic for those Esprit boots I used to wear during my junior year of high school with the built-in wool sock things sticking out of the top.

    There is ankle bootie. They frighten me a little because I’m not sure what to do with them.

    (When I just proofread this I realized I should have written, “there is the ankle bootie”. But it made me laugh that I wrote there is ankle bootie, so I’m leaving it. Watch out for ankle bootie. You don’t want ankle bootie.)

    (I’m sorry. I’m very tired and a little punchy.)

    And there are boots with spats. I’m a little obsessed with these.

    Lastly, there are riding boots. I am such a fan of the riding boot. It’s a classic that will withstand the test of time and fashion whims.

    2. Lace

    Gulley and I were in Nordstrom yesterday and I saw a lace bodysuit. It was very similar to this Back to Lace-ics Onesie except it had long sleeves. I pointed it out to Gulley and laughed and said, “Remember when you used to have one almost exactly like that in college?”

    And she replied, “That wasn’t mine. It was yours.”

    Oh how the mighty have fallen.

    Anyway, as it turns out I should have saved it. I could sell it on ebay or something for tens of dollars because the lace is everywhere right now.

    Dahlia tunic

    Discovered lace dress

    Lace is for Lovers top

    My only advice is to remind you that nothing feels worse than cheap lace against your skin. Except for maybe freshly shaved legs at the beach. Or alcohol on a paper cut. Or biting into a water chestnut.

    3. Military Influences

    The military jackets are everywhere. There are dressy ones and utility ones. They even have them in camo.

    Rag & Bone Cotton Safari jacket

    Maybe I’ve been married to P for too long, but I actually really like that jacket. Of course I could probably find the same one for $30 at Cabelas. Along with a cheaper version of these Prada camo riding boots. Too bad they don’t have the leather snake detail like P’s.

    But if the thought of camo frightens you, there are other ways to incorporate this trend into your wardrobe.

    Sanctuary Military jacket

    skinny cargo pants (I haven’t actually tried these. I’m not sure why any woman over the age of six would want to add bulk to her legs with pockets and have them taper to a skinny little point at the bottom. It seems like it might make your legs look like they defy the laws of physics. And taste.)

    We the Free Majorette jacket

    Do you see how I got too tired to actually upload pictures here at the end? I totally would except I really don’t want to right now. I have to go to bed.

    And catch a flight.

    And try to forget that I was the proud owner of a lace bodysuit.

    Y’all have a great Friday.

  • The unfairness of it all

    I feel like this week has been a big blur of school and alarm clocks and packing lunches and heating up Eggo waffles. It’s hard to get back in a routine and I am just a little bit exhausted. So I’m going to share a few quick things and call it a day. Or a blog post. Or whatever.

    1. I came home yesterday afternoon to discover that P had finished the bag of pretzel M&M’s. I went through the seven stages of grief and ultimately decided it was probably for the best. He can afford to eat an entire bag of M&M’s in one sitting because he can drop fifteen pounds in a week if he just mentions he might eat some baked fish for dinner.

    It’s not fair.

    2. I mentioned this on Twitter yesterday because I couldn’t contain my excitement. Gulley and I ran in Gap just to check things out and they had their yoga pants on sale for $9.99. I would have bought a pair for every day of the week but they only had one pair left in my size.

    It’s not fair.

    3. I’ve recently become addicted to Angry Bird on my iPhone. I’d played it a few times before but became frustrated when I got to level 10 and couldn’t get past it. But while we were at the beach, W told me that you can tap on the screen and the little gray birds turn into three separate birds. I’m not sure why I didn’t know that. Needless to say, that piece of information has revolutionized my Angry Bird abilities. However, I’m currently stuck on a new level and all the screen-tapping in the world doesn’t seem to be helping.

    It’s not fair.

    4. I’m leaving on Friday morning for Richmond, VA for a Living Proof Live Event with Beth Moore. I just realized that sentence makes it sound like I’m leaving for Virginia with Beth Moore. We’re not actually flying there together or anything. I’ll just hear her speak once I get there. Anyway, I’m excited about it.

    And the forecast shows that the high temps will only be in the low 80’s on Saturday. I’m planning to pack a sweater to ward off the chill. How come they get that kind of weather and it’s still 100 degrees here?

    It’s not fair.

    Although the cold front that blew violently into town on Tuesday afternoon dropped the temps from 106 to the high 90’s. I never knew 97 degrees could feel so refreshing.

    5. Caroline has decided she’d like me to curl her hair every morning. I’m thrilled by her new hair aspirations and I don’t mind curling it, except for the fact that she never stops moving the entire time. It’s like trying to curl the hair of a Persian cat on amphetamines. And it doesn’t help that I’m still a little groggy at 7:15 a.m.

    The good news is it appears her hair can hold a curl all day long in spite of the massive humidity.

    I’d like to say it’s not fair, but, honestly, I’m thrilled for her hair success. Even if she won’t really appreciate it for many years to come.

    I’ll be back tomorrow and there’s a 64% chance I’m going to take the plunge and discuss fall trends.

  • Some days at the beach

    I can sum up my day in two words:

    Pretzel M&M’s.

    Sophie mentioned them a few days ago and I’d just seen them that morning at Office Max. They seemed to be the culmination of every PMS dream I’ve ever had and I finally bought a bag at HEB. I never knew heaven had a taste.

    The unfortunate thing is that I’ve spent most of the summer vowing my workout and eating healthy regimen would begin again as soon as school started. So I’m going to have to eat the pretzel M&M’s in moderation.

    Right.

    It reminds me of a story my family used to tell about my oldest cousin. When she was a little girl and got in trouble for doing something wrong she immediately began to wail, “But just yesterday I gave my heart to Jesus.”

    That’s kind of how I feel about the pretzel M&M’s. Just yesterday I gave my heart to pursuing some physical fitness goals.

    It’s going to take some willpower.

    Mainly because we spent most of last week at the beach. The beach experience isn’t complete for me unless it includes Fritos and bean dip. And apparently a variety pack of Corn Nuts. I didn’t even realize that was an odd thing to haul down to the beach until my friend E looked in the pantry and asked, “Who in your family can’t live without Corn Nuts for four days?”

    That would be me. Not on normal days, just beach days.

    That makes it better.

    Anyway, early in the summer, our friends W and E invited us to come stay at the beach house they’d rented for a week. They also invited our friends Cat and Dave and we were all excited to get to spend a few days together with our kids.

    So last Thursday we loaded up P’s truck, along with the Polaris and everything else we own, and headed to Port Aransas for a long weekend. I’m not kidding when I say we looked like the Clampetts, but not as refined.

    When I went to HEB on Wednesday to buy groceries for the trip, my cart was so full that the bag boy asked if I had a lot of kids. Yes. Yes I do. Kids who eat a lot of Corn Nuts. The back seat of the truck was piled so high with groceries that every time P made a right turn I was concerned Caroline might get knocked out by a rogue can of bean dip.

    As soon as we got down there, we hit the beach. And look! We upgraded our accommodations this year!

    Granted, it still looked a little like a refugee camp, but it was an improvement over last year’s tarp held up with rusted rebar. What I really wish I could show you is the moment the brown canopy caught a big gust of wind and began flying down the beach. We watched with a mix of horror and wonder, yet no one thought to grab their camera.

    The fun thing about the trip, other than the canopy flying with reckless abandon down the beach, was that we’ve known W and Dave since they were fifteen years old and began attending a weekly Bible study that P led after he came back to San Antonio from College Station. And we’ve known Cat since she was about ten. We first met E six years ago when she visited the ranch with some friends who thought she might be a good match for W. Is any of this making sense?

    The bottom line is that we’ve watched them all grow up, become real people, fall in love, get married and have babies. And now we’re just all friends that take vacations together.

    And watch our kids dig big holes in the sand.

    So that they can make a baby pool for one of the littlest ones.

    Shortly after, they crashed her pool party and she decided to make a getaway.

    To go in search of bigger and better things.

    There were water fights.

    And trucks.

    And running down the beach.

    And much borrowing of Caroline’s fancy goggles to make a fashion statement.

    The majority of the time I looked up from my lounge chair and magazine, I saw Caroline attached like a little sea monkey to her daddy.

    The fish we caught weren’t quite as impressive as the sharks we caught last year.

    And by we, I mean P. I don’t really believe in putting bait on a hook and heading out to become part of the oceanic food chain.

    It was the perfect way to end the summer. Friends, laughter, sun, Fritos, bean dip, Corn Nuts, sun and seaweed.

    And jumping because we were just so happy to be there.

    (This is how I’ll always remember Caroline at age 7. All arms and legs. All energy. All the time.)

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

  • Second grade

    Well the first thing I need to tell you is that I found my power cord after an exhaustive search. And it wasn’t in the trash which I’m going to claim as a victory. Instead, it was safely tucked away in an outside pocket of my suitcase. A pocket I didn’t even know existed except for apparently I did because I decided it was a good place to put my power cord when we left for the beach last Thursday. Honestly, I don’t even know why I checked my suitcase one last time, but I think it was related to the sheer agony I felt every time I thought about doling out $80 for something I already owned.

    But, now! Just think of all the cute stuff I can buy with the $80 I saved by finding my power cord in my suitcase. It’s like I just found free money.

    (I’m not sure why my version of economics frustrates P so much. Clearly, it’s very sound and logical)

    In other news, Caroline had her first day of school yesterday and it turns out she was totally ready for second grade.

    And it turns out that I wasn’t.

    I truly thought I was ready. We got home from the beach on Sunday afternoon, packed and labeled all the school supplies we bought a month ago, and discussed what she wanted in her lunch the next day. We’d even gone through her closet trying to find an appropriate first day of school outfit that we both deemed acceptable. The whole wardrobe issue was filled with drama and tension and “WHY DON’T I HAVE MORE CLOTHES WITH SEQUINS?!”, but we ultimately reached a compromise. However, in the end, I should have just dressed her in sackcloth and ashes to match her pathetic mama who spent the rest of the day after drop-off in a state of mourning and wailing and hand-wringing.

    P woke us up about 6:45 and I staggered into the kitchen to fry an egg and heat up a frozen waffle. Caroline ran in her room to get dressed and brush her teeth, then came back out holding her hairbrush and asked if I’d curl her hair with a curling iron. So I meticulously curled her hair only to have her decide it was too poufy and request that I pull it back in a ponytail even though P tried to convince her that the humidity would cause it to fall after about two minutes outside. (How much do I love P and his ability to be in touch with the issues that face women?)

    By the time I finally got her dressed and ready, I had approximately twenty-eight seconds to pull my hair back and throw on the first thing I found. We walked to her new classroom, met her teacher, kissed Caroline goodbye and headed back home. As soon as we walked in the back door, P took one look at me and said, “You’ll feel better after a good cry”. And then I just fell apart like a big old sentimental sap that I would have totally made fun of less than ten years ago because PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER, NANCY. IT’S SECOND GRADE, NOT VIETNAM.

    I’m not sure why second grade hit me so hard. I have theories that involve things like getting a teacher that we don’t really know anything about, only knowing one other child in the class, and the way Caroline seemed so apprehensive when she kissed P and me goodbye, but I think the ultimate cause may be more related to the perfect storm of getting home from a fabulous trip to the beach, my ever present hormonal fluctuations, and OH MY WORD MY BABY IS A SECOND GRADER AND I’M NOT SURE HOW THIS HAPPENED AND I AM GOING TO NEED TIME TO STOP IT.

    Because when I picked her up yesterday afternoon, she could not have been happier. She hugged her old friend and a new friend goodbye and strolled to the car while announcing it had been a great day. Although she did tell me that during reading time she traded books with one of the other kids in the class because the teacher didn’t say they couldn’t trade books. But then her teacher said they couldn’t trade books with each other and Caroline told me, “I wanted to tell her, ‘Then you should have told us that in the first place, GIRL’.” Which probably would have been an opportune time to explain why you shouldn’t refer to your teacher as “GIRL”, but I didn’t want to kill her first day of school buzz.

    And so it begins. Tomorrow I’ll drop her off again and we’ll wash, rinse and repeat for the next I-don’t-really-want-to-think-about-how-many days.

    Here’s hoping I can get through the rest of them without crying every five minutes.