Author: Big Mama

  • The Gang

    I spent the week before Caroline’s birthday awash in nostalgia. So I decided to just go ahead and give into a good crying jag and watch the slideshow I made for her fifth birthday. The only problem was it no longer exists. I never actually ordered it on DVD (dang me and my procrastination tendencies) and I guess it reached some sort of statute of limitations and One True Media took the liberty of deleting it.

    Cue the tears and lamenting and the would have, could have, should haves.

    The worst part was that I’d saved all those photos on a hard drive and deleted them from my computer because it tends to have memory issues. I’m sure this could be remedied with the purchase of additional memory, but that would require me to have a conversation with someone about technology and life is too short.

    Thus, I began the tedious process of scanning photos back onto the computer and uploading images from various places. It was as fun as you might imagine. Yet I was determined to recreate the whole thing with the addition of two more years of life.

    But along the way I noticed how many photos there were of Caroline, Jackson and Will over the years and thought it might be fun to make a little slideshow of The Gang. Fun might be an overstatement. I just felt compelled to capture all the memories.

    Jackson and Will have taught Caroline what it’s like to have brothers. They love and they laugh. They wrestle and they fight. They argue over who gets to sit in the backseat and they roll their eyes at their mothers when they think we’re not paying attention.

    I believe Caroline has taught the boys that having a sister means there is always a good chance for tears and drama when you’re not even sure what you did wrong. And that having a girl around makes your world a little bit sweeter.

    Even if it’s a girl that can burp as loud as you.

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    Starting at 9:00 a.m. today, you can click over to my Kellogg’s Giveaway Page for a chance to win a $100 gift card.

  • Parking double in a single spot

    I feel like before I write anything else I need to apologize to anyone who may have been in the San Antonio area over the past weekend and nearly been run off the road by a large white truck. And then also may have seen that same truck double-parked at various establishments all over town. P left town on Thursday afternoon in the stay wag leaving me with the choice of attempting to drive his truck or sitting home and doing nothing. Clearly, the latter option wasn’t really an option at all and I determined the only thing I had to fear was being yelled at by other drivers since I was the biggest thing on the road.

    Oh, and I may have gently grazed the order sign at Sonic trying to back out.

    Anyway, P headed to the coast to fish in a tournament with several of his friends. The actual tournament wasn’t until Saturday, but they always leave a day early to pre-fish. This is the part where I would like to mock and make fun of the concept of pre-fishing. However, they won the tournament and so I obviously know nothing about the proper mechanics of catching fish.

    On Thursday, Caroline and I went to Natural Bridge Caverns with Mimi and Bops along with my sister and niece. My dad had taken my sister and I there about twenty-five years ago, but she had no recollection of any of it. Meanwhile, I felt an enormous amount of pride that I remembered the difference between stalactites and stalagmites and even one particular formation called a fried egg. It’s a shame that none of that knowledge helped me score higher than a C when I took Geography in college.

    (Several people have now pointed out that I probably meant Geology instead of Geography. Yes, yes I did. But it was late when I wrote this and I did the best I could.)

    Also, in what is sure to be one of the nerdiest things I’ve ever shared here, those formations grow at the rate of one inch per one hundred years. I find that fascinating. Or as our articulate tour guide totally understated, “You guys, it takes, like, a really long time for those things to grow”.

    Before we went in the cave, we received a long lecture about the importance of not touching any of the rocks because the dirt and oils in our hands can cause them to quit growing. I was amazed that Caroline was so careful about not touching anything, until we walked out of the cave at the end of the tour and she mentioned she was so relieved she didn’t accidentally touch anything because she didn’t want to stop growing. Apparently she misunderstood what the guide said, but it totally worked and I may write a letter telling them that the most effective method to preserve the cave would be to tell little children they’ll quit growing if they touch something.

    We spent most of the day Friday doing nothing with a side of nothing. And then a little more nothing.

    But on Saturday Caroline was ready for some fun. She asked, “Are we going to get wild like girls do?”

    Note to self: Find out where she learned this concept.

    Her original desire was to go to the mall, but I convinced her there was no way I could park P’s truck in the mall parking lot and also informed her there would be no buying of anything while we were there. We ended up calling her friend S and I took the girls to the pool for most of the day.

    A new pool era was born because it wasn’t crowded at all and so I sat in a lounge chair WITH A BOOK while the girls swam and played for the better part of three hours. Every now and then they would come over to get money for ice cream or mozzarella sticks and then head off again. We were all GIDDY with the freedom.

    Later that night, P arrived safely back home with about fifteen pounds of fish and my beloved stay wag. I’m pretty excited about eating fresh fish all week.

    But I think I’m even more excited to be able to go to Sonic without hitting the menu.

  • Fashion Friday: Edition I love a sale

    I was all prepared to write a long impassioned post in defense of jeggings, but I made the mistake of watching Marley and Me for the second time and now I just want to curl up in the fetal position and cry for the next hour or so. You’d think I would know better considering the last time I watched it I had to sit in the living room trying to gain my composure so P wouldn’t mock me for being so invested in a movie. And then when I finally walked into the bedroom, he asked me how I liked the movie and I broke down in tears all over again.

    Needless to say, the dogs are getting to sleep in the bed tonight and have ice cream for breakfast.

    Anyway, about the jeggings.

    I didn’t even realize what I’d done last week when I casually mentioned that a plaid tunic would look great with a pair of jean leggings and boots. It was just one of those things you say, like maybe I’ll cut my hair above my shoulders. It doesn’t mean it will ever actually happen, just that I like to think about it. Hypothetically.

    And, yes, I realize that sometime last year I said ugly things about the jegging. They frightened me with all their sleekness and spandex. But then I bought a pair of tall brown boots that were just begging to have jeans tucked in. Which led me to my first purchase of a skinny jean since 1989 because you can’t tuck bootcut jeans into boots.

    I ended up wearing the heck out of those skinny jeans all winter long for the love of the boots. It was all for the boots.

    Thus, I can see the benefit of the jegging. It’s all the fashion of the jean but with the comfort of the legging. The trick is to get the proportions right. Unless you are in phenomenal shape, I don’t think they should be worn without some sort of long top or sweater over them. And don’t forget the importance of the right proportion of top and boot.

    I also feel like I need to tell you that I would never wear the skinny jean or the jegging with a pair of flats. Mainly because I don’t really like flats, but also because I’m afraid it would make me look like an ice cream cone.

    That’s my personal issue. I know several people who wear flats with skinny jeans and they look darling.

    But enough about that. It’s the season of the summer sale and here’s some cute stuff I found.

    1. Laundry Bell Sleeve Eyelet Shift Dress

    I’d love this with some pretty turquoise jewelry.

    Of course I love everything with pretty turquoise jewelry.

    2. Candy Coated Tote

    This bag is so cute and comes in several different great colors.

    3. Konnie Linen Ruffled Shirt

    I originally thought the model was wearing pink hot pants, but they appear to be slim-fitting cropped pants which is a relief.

    Personally, I’d wear this top with jeans and my cowboy boots.

    4. Suckered Gingham Shirt

    This is the perfect shirt to wear with everything from shorts to skirts to jeans. And I love that it would transition perfectly into fall.

    5. Citizens of Humanity Denim Jacket

    I don’t know what I’d do without my denim jacket. It completes me.

    Or at least it completes several outfits in my closet.

    6. Tie-Dye Maxi Dress

    I’m tempted to buy this dress just so I could wear it all next summer or even use it as a coverup.

    7. Plaid Long Sleeve Roll Tab Shirt

    I have a thing for the plaid shirt.

    8. Lantern Sleeve Tunic

    This would look so pretty with a pair of white jeans.

    9. Candy Sweet Dress

    Gulley has a dress similar to this that she wears as a swimsuit coverup and it always looks so cute. I also think it would look great paired with leggings or even over a pair of jeans.

    10. Candy Bowl Ring

    I’m not sure why I picked three things this week with “candy” in the name. It was purely coincidental. But the matter at hand is that I love this ring. But I really need to get a manicure before I have any business calling attention to my fingers.

    On a final note, if you happen to live in San Antonio then I need to let you know that Grove Hill is having a huge sale right now. There are tons of things on sale for 75% off and great designer jeans on sale for 50% off. And, not only that, Adelante is also having a big sale. They’re taking 30% off all merchandise in the store with the exception of jewelry.

    And if you don’t live in San Antonio, then I can only console you by telling you that our heat index for tomorrow is supposed to be 110 degrees.

    I’ll be at the pool.

    Eating ice.

    And thinking about vacationing in Iceland.

    Y’all have a great Friday.

  • The leftover cupcakes have sustained me

    Does anyone remember when I went to New York back in April? (It’s fine if you don’t. I certainly have no expectations that anyone is keeping up with my lame schedule.) Somehow I ended up in first class and I’m about 82% sure that I was sitting next to Javier Bardem. He was wearing a tweed sport coat with a red bandana sticking out of the pocket. Which I thought was a little odd, but totally makes sense now that I realize it was Javier Bardem. Everyone knows how all the Hollywood types like to wear red bandanas as pocket squares.

    Anyway, I mentioned it to Ree and Sophie that night at dinner, but didn’t feel totally sure about it so I didn’t want to walk around claiming that I sat next to Javier Bardem on a plane when it might not be true and three people might care. But a little while ago I was watching David Letterman and he had Julia Roberts on and they showed a clip from Eat, Pray, Love with Javier Bardem and my certainty increased from a mere 43% to 82%. And now I’m just sick that I didn’t engage him in some sort of conversation because, next thing you know, we could have been vacationing with he and Penelope Cruz.

    Assuming they are big fans of the beach at Port Aransas and wouldn’t mind spending all day hanging out under P’s version of a beach cabana.

    IMG_7134

    You can only imagine my delight at the thought of Javier and Penelope being photographed hanging out under that piece of tarp and featured in US Weekly under the “Stars! They’re Just Like Us!” section.

    I don’t know why I’m telling you this, other than the fact that I am functioning on about three hours of sleep and desperately need to go to bed but also desperately need some quiet time to myself where no one is asking me to help them put on their new roller skates for the thirty-eighth time or to assist them as they weave a potholder. P can be so high maintenance.

    So, Caroline had a pool party this year. She was originally against the pool party idea which is unfortunate because she was born in August and that means she can either choose a pool party or something that involves air-conditioning. But at some point she came up with the idea to give all her party guests disposable underwater cameras as party favors so they could all take pictures of each other while they swam. I immediately agreed to this since I was ready to do anything to avoid Chuck E. Cheese.

    The cameras were a big hit once I showed all the kids how to use cameras that aren’t digital. They kept trying to see the picture and I had to explain that back in the 1900’s all cameras required you to wind the film after each picture. And they looked at me wide-eyed and asked, “What’s film?”

    Which may explain why later on that night at the slumber party, as we watched Mary Poppins and I explained that suffragettes were women who fought for the right to vote because women weren’t allowed to vote until the 1920’s, Caroline said, “DID YOU HEAR THAT? WOMEN WEREN’T ALLOWED TO VOTE WHEN MY MAMA WAS A LITTLE GIRL!”

    I’m like a walking, breathing antique.

    We took Caroline and some of her friends to dinner at The Magic Time Machine. They were so hyped up on cupcake icing that not a one of them remembered that there is such thing as an inside voice. P said he kind of felt like we ought to offer to buy dinner for the table that had to sit next to us, but I don’t feel like anyone can complain about the noise if they choose to dine at a restaurant where Batman is your waiter and Indiana Jones leads you to a salad bar made from a car.

    And the slumber party.

    Who knew that four little girls could be so loud? And have so much energy? And be so particular about all the different colors they need for their pedicure?

    I did. I discovered it at Caroline’s birthday slumber party last year, but had blocked the memory from my mind because I knew we’d have to do it again. And again. And again.

    And again.

    I think it was about 1 a.m. when I officially turned into what Caroline described as “Miss Hannigan”. It was at that point that I may have made a vague threat about no more sleepovers for a long time if everyone didn’t get quiet and GO TO BED. And then I sang a song about little girls and took a drink from my flask while demanding that they scrub the kitchen floor until it shines like the top of the Chrysler building.

    They all fell asleep and woke up around 7 a.m. asking what I had planned for the morning. The answer was NOTHING. I’m serving breakfast, calling your parents and then stumbling to the couch to lie down for the next three days.

    And then I’m done with socializing for about a week.

    Unless Javier and Penelope call.

  • A loosely based mathematical theory

    You’ll have to bear with me here because I’ve never been very good at math. Not to mention that it’s 1:00 a.m. and I have been breathing nail polish fumes for the better part of two hours.

    This is just my own personal working theory.

    If a good birthday is determined by the absolute value of fun had in the pool

    plus the velocity with which you propel out of the slide

    divided by the square root of cupcakes

    and the distributive property of candy contained in one horse pinata

    divided by a fun night out with your best friends

    multiplied by making sixteen necklaces and having your toes painted eight times

    with the greatest common factor being the sheer and utter exhaustion of your mama?

    Then someone had themselves a very happy day.

  • Seven

    Dear Caroline,

    There are very few moments in life when you can recall exactly what you were doing on a specific date at a specific time, but I know that at 2:24 a.m. on August 3, 2003 you came into my world and changed it forever. Who knew a little person weighing in at five pounds and eight ounces could have such an impact? Daddy took one look at the scale and remarked that he’d caught fish bigger than you.

    Specifically, he’d caught fish bigger than you two days earlier when he headed down to the National Seashore, out of cell phone range, to camp out on the beach. I kissed him goodbye and said, “Just remember, missing the birth of your first child falls in the category of things I’ll never get over”. But God always smiles on Daddy and he got back in town approximately twenty-four hours before you decided to show up two weeks early.

    As soon as you were born, the nurses whisked you off to make sure you were okay because you were so much smaller than they expected. In fact, they did an ultrasound while I was experiencing excruciating labor pains and assured me you would weigh in around seven and a half pounds. I guess you showed them.

    A few minutes later they placed you in my arms. I took one look at you and said, “You’re a peanut”. Because you were. The most beautiful little peanut I’d ever seen. With wide eyes and no eyelashes to speak of. I’ll be honest, you looked a little like a frog. But you were my frog and I was head over heels in love.

    Seven years later, I love you even more. You are the light of my life.

    And the feeling is mutual.

    Maybe it’s because your first grade year kept us so busy with all the soccer and the homework and the drama over picking out clothes, but this has been our summer of being in love. You can’t get enough of me. It’s like I’ve grown an appendage that weighs forty-seven pounds and likes to kick me in my sleep and occasionally wake me up with the command to “cuddle”.

    The other day we were driving down the road and you said, “Mama?”

    “What, baby?”

    “I have seen a lot of mamas in my life, but you are my favorite.”

    Melt my heart. Seriously, what do you want? Just name it.

    “Well, I’ve seen a lot of kids in my life and you’re my favorite.”

    With that you smiled a contented smile. And then ten seconds later treated me to a joke containing your favorite brand of potty humor.

    If only I could capture these moments on video to pull out when you’re thirteen and furious that I won’t let you out of the house wearing all that blue eyeliner. I’ll tell you now that I’m doing you a favor.

    This year has brought its share of challenges. You’ve had your feelings hurt, felt misunderstood and had to learn what it means to stand up for yourself. At times it’s been hard for me to watch, but I’ve seen your character grow and develop as you’ve learned what it means to be a good friend and the importance of treating others with kindness.

    A few days ago, you spent the night with Mimi and Bops. And when they brought you home, you went into full-on drama queen mode. I told you to go to your room until you could settle down. A few minutes later you walked back into the living room, hugged me tight and told me you were worried that you weren’t unique. I have to believe that only someone is truly unique would actually verbalize being worried about it. I can assure you with full confidence that you can cross that off your list of concerns. You are one of a kind.

    Last Friday night, we had an impromptu family movie night. I’d recorded A Little Princess and we all crawled in bed to watch it together. This has been the year that I’ve officially realized, barring some huge life-altering decision, that it’s most likely going to be the three of us. And it’s caused me to hold every moment a little bit tighter trying to fully soak in the sweetness. As we all snuggled in together, I loved listening to you and Daddy laugh out loud and I don’t know that I’ve ever had more love and appreciation for our little band of three.

    You are the dream I couldn’t have imagined. And Daddy and I love you more than you’ll ever know.

    Happy Birthday, my sweet girl. You are going to be great at being seven.

    Love,
    Mama