Author: Big Mama

Little boy blue

I’m sitting here struggling to type out some words. This is largely due to the fact that I practically cut my index finger off while chopping up a tomato last night. P always warns me that I’m risking severe injury when I don’t sharpen my knives before I use them, but that requires a lot of effort and it’s so much easier to walk around in pain clutching my Neosporin-to-Go and a box of flexible Band-Aids while complaining about how bad my finger hurts.

Between you and me, I have no idea how I’m going to get the garland on my front porch now. The index finger is absolutely essential to that process. You wouldn’t think it would be, but you would be wrong. And, honestly, I think it serves me right for not getting our outdoor decorations up before now. I always try (and fail!) to convince P we need to put them up the weekend after Thanksgiving to get maximum seasonal enjoyment, but there is thing called HUNTING SEASON that trumps outdoor illumination.

But rumor has it that the lights are going up later today and I’ll do the best I can to decorate the front porch in spite of my compromised index finger. Rumor also has it that P is definitely working on his gift list and it will be ready on Friday.

My mom is in town so we made a trip back to the hospital to see Baby Luke yesterday. My sister (Not my twin, by the way. She’s four years younger.) is doing really well and when the nurse came in to ask her to rate her pain on that stupid pain chart with all the faces, she answered that she was a two. A two? A two still shows a smiley face. I thought everyone knew that you never answer lower than a five. Heck, I would rate my finger between a six and a seven, possibly even an eight if it weren’t for the anesthetic I sprayed on it earlier.

But no one really seemed that concerned about my finger. In fact, no one even asked me to rate my pain, which just seems wrong since it’s not like I got an epidural before I cut my finger.

While the nurse was tending to my sister, I took it upon myself to change Luke out of his hospital-issued attire and change him into something a little fancier. My poor brother-in-law didn’t grow up in a family of women, so he called out to my sister, “Melanie is playing dress up with our baby.” To which she replied, “OH GOOD!” because all those years we dressed up our dolls and cats totally prepared us for playing dress up with real live babies.

Of course part of my reason for wanting to dress him up was purely for the chance to unwrap him and look at his sweet fat baby legs. I gently laid him on the bed, unwrapped him and made the strategic error of checking his diaper. It was a very full diaper. All I wanted was to put him in a blue gown and instead I ended up having to wipe newborn tar off his bottom while he screamed at the injustice of life.

Just as I got him all cleaned up, I slipped a new diaper under his little bottom and he retaliated by peeing all over me. I forgot that boys come with a weapon. So then I had to start cleaning him up all over again while he voiced his opposition and I kept calling to my sister, “HE’S FINE! HE’S TOTALLY FINE!”

And he was. By the time she saw him again, he was in a pretty (handsome?) little gown, peacefully wrapped in his blue satin blankie with a sweet blue sweater cap on his head.

So of course we had to unwrap him and take some pictures. It’s what we do.

Bless his heart, he didn’t seem to mind.
Baby love

Well look who decided to show up.

Welcome to the world, Luke Christopher! All eight pounds and fifteen ounces of you.

(Oh my poor sister.)

We love you already.
A time-honored tradition that involves eating a lot of cheese

For about the last twenty years, Gulley and I have blocked off the first weekend in December for our annual Christmas shopping girls’ weekend. We spend all day Friday and Saturday finishing all our Christmas shopping and then stay up late on Saturday night wrapping all the presents.

Of course twenty years ago we didn’t refer to it as a girls’ weekend because we were nineteen and the weekend pretty much resembled what every day looked like, except substitute buying Christmas presents and wrapping them with buying new outfits for ourselves and flirting with convenience store employees named Al.

But ever since Gulley started us on the motherhood track almost eight years ago, the weekend involves a little more planning and coordination, which basically means P goes hunting and Caroline spends the weekend with Mimi and Bops so that we have my whole house to ourselves and it becomes just like our college apartment but with furniture that isn’t made of plastic and requires self-assembly upon purchase.

Our first stop on Friday morning was Starbucks because as Caroline has taken to saying these days, “DUH. WHY WOULDN’T IT BE?” Armed with our various caffeinated beverages, we headed out to Nordstrom Rack because I’d gotten an email earlier in the week announcing that they were getting in a whole new shipment that day. And it did not disappoint. In fact, we both bought a new coat for ourselves. I didn’t think I’d actually admit that publicly, but we did. We bought ourselves new coats because they were an additional 35% off already INSANELY low prices and it was 33 degrees outside with six flakes of snow and I have never felt like a purchase was more necessary. I feel that what I saved in the cost of potential hypothermia healthcare expenses more than makes up the cost of the coat.

After that we went to TJ Maxx because I was looking for some inexpensive red glass goblets for my china cabinet but there were none to be found, but we did find a few items for some people on our shopping list which was fortunate since that’s really the whole goal of the weekend.

(Well, that and eating lots of chips and queso.)

And then we found ourselves at Target.

We decided to go to this particular Target because we both feel strongly that the Target closer to our homes is completely overshopped. They never have anything good and I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this but it takes four extra minutes to get there and an additional two stoplights.

I’m not really sure that the foreign Target was any better, but we did manage to find quite a few things on the toy aisles and also nearly take someone out with the Rip Stick protruding from the bottom of our cart. I could not be sorrier that I misjudged the width of that aisle.

When we got back in the car, Gulley was able to cross several things off her list. This is a very important part of the process for Gulley. She has a meticulous list that she carries with her every year and painstakingly crosses off each item as it’s completed. However, this year she graduated to a full-on leather bound notebook that she clutched to her chest at all times in a grand display of shopping OCD.

I didn’t have any sort of list because I prefer to just guess at what I need and then get home and feel the agonizing disappointment and frustration of realizing that I didn’t necessarily achieve anything other than buying myself a coat and I’ll have to make another trip to Target when my love for humanity is already perilously close to expiring. And yet I mock Gulley and her Journal Of Christmas Accomplishments.

On Saturday, I thought we were going to hit a few stores and then go to the mall, but instead we apparently traveled back in time to 1983 because we saw this:

Denim. Puffy. Vest.

The only thing that would make it more wrong, if that’s even possible, is if it came with sleeves that zip on and off. Gap, I have seen the face of ugly and it is this vest. You should not design and sell clothing based on what was in my Big Bob’s closet back in 1978.

Then we saw this:

“Monchhichi Monchhici, oh so soft and cuddly. With his thumb in his mouth he’s really sweet. It’s fun to play with his little feet.”

Sure, I can remember that but can’t remember that we’re out of dog food when I went to the grocery store specifically to buy dog food. Perhaps it would be helpful if I’d carry a leather-bound notebook full of lists.

However, I’m a little sad I didn’t grab that Monchhichi because, not only does he make me recall catchy commercials from the recesses of my brain, a bit of bad news hit the wire this weekend.

(Who am I? Wolf Blitzer? Hit the wire?)

I don’t know if you’ve heard, but it looks like Mr. Squiggles may have have the Faux Hamster Flu according to some consumer group and Santa may need a backup plan if there’s a big joy-killing recall about to take place.

I always thought that Mr. Squiggles was bad news. Here’s hoping that he keeps whatever funk he has to himself and doesn’t spread it Num Nums or Chunk, especially since I was DELIGHTED BEYOND ALL NORMAL REASON to discover that instead of the lame faux hamster exercise wheel that I thought I purchased at Walmart a few weeks ago, I actually purchased the garage and little hamster car.

I’ll just be sick if Chunk isn’t well enough to drive around the living room on Christmas morning.
Fashion Friday: Festive Christmas edition

Before I ramble endlessly, I want to let you know that I am giving away a $100 Visa Gift Card courtesy of the kind folks who make the Hershey Kisses. Click over to my giveaway page to enter!

I don’t know that my OCD has ever been more full-blown than it was yesterday morning as I worked tirelessly for three hours weaving an insane amount of Christmas lights in and out of the branches of my best Christmas tree ever. Even after I sustained an injury falling backwards over my ottoman (I did the same thing last year. You think I’d learn to move it out of the way. You would be wrong.) I pushed through my pain to ensure the tree was properly illuminated. It deserved no less.

In the midst of all my hard work, I lost track of time and all of a sudden it was time to go pick Caroline up from school which was totally humiliating because I was wearing the exact same thing I was wearing when I dropped her off at 8:00 a.m. That wouldn’t have necessarily been a bad thing had I not been dressed like a bag lady, but with less style and panache.

To make matters worse, we had to to head straight for gymnastics and it was there that I looked down and realized that my faded black yoga pants weren’t as long as I’d hoped and everyone could absolutely see the shame of the olive green Smart Wool socks that I was wearing with my running shoes. OH THE HORROR.

In my defense, it has been VERY COLD and the Smart Wool socks tend to compensate for the fact that blood doesn’t regularly circulate to my feet. And I also sparkle in the sunlight? What do you think that means?

(Disclaimer: I’ve only read the first Twilight book and maybe I’m getting old and cynical because I really don’t get it. Back in my day, a boy who watches you while you sleep would have been called a stalker at best.)

(I also grew up in the days of eight-track tape players that were designed to look like denim pockets on the back of jeans, so what do I know?)

(I mean other than how to time a track just right and then click over to the second track in time to hear Jive Talkin’ by the BeeGees while listening to the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack?)

Anyway, I wasn’t sure what to feature in today’s Fashion Friday because it’s the Christmas season and none of us are really shopping for ourselves right now. However, I thought I’d list ten things that might come in handy if you have some sort of holiday soiree to attend or just want to feel a little festive.

As for me, my social calendar is packed full of nights that I will spend in my pajamas in front of the fire while wearing my Smart Wool socks. And I’m not even embarrassed to admit it.

Well, maybe a little embarrassed.

1. Woven Shift Dress

If you have an occasion that calls for a little something special, this is a really cute little black dress. I like it because it can be dressed up or down and, honestly, every woman should have a go-to black dress in her closet.

2. Faux Fur Cheetah Jacket

Nothing says FESTIVE like a faux fur cheetah jacket.

It also says RAWR.

(I don’t think I pulled that off, but I’m leaving it there because it makes me laugh.)

3. Velvet Blazer

Some of the velvet blazers featured over at Victorias’ Secret show women wearing them with only a lace bra underneath. I don’t know that I’d recommend that look for public consumption, but a velvet blazer is a great piece to have during the holidays.

You can pair it with a beaded tank and wear it with jeans or dress it up with a pair of nice pants. It’s what we in the fashion business like to call VERSATILE.

Of course I’m not in the fashion business so I’ll just say it’s really soft and pretty.

4. Garnet Satin Sheath Dress

Well this is certainly festive.

I’d also like to ask that model if she enjoyed the crouton she ate for lunch today.

5. Red Walking Coat

I saw this coat earlier in the week and I just think it is the cute of all cutes. I love the style and the detail in the back. And I was a huge fan of Jessica Simpson back in the days of The Newlyweds Show.

I’m not even embarrassed to admit that, but I also wore green socks in public yesterday with my running shoes.

Oh, and think how cute this coat would look with leggings and tall black boots.

6. Velvet Pants

There was a year that I had some leopard print velvet pants. I refer to it as my favorite year ever. Not really, but if the qualification for best year ever was based on pants, then I totally would.

Velvet pants are the perfect piece for a holiday party because you can pair them with a beaded cardigan or a ruffled blouse and you’ve got yourself an outfit.

Disclaimer: I would not buy these if you own a white, long-haired cat.

7. Sparkly Ballet Flats

A little bit of happy for your feet.

8. Classic UGGS

A LOT OF HAPPY for your feet, especially when you get back from a long day of Christmas shopping.

9. Fleece Lounge Pants

This will probably be what I wear the most often this Christmas season. Let’s just hope I have some sense of decency and don’t end up wearing them to pick up Caroline from school.

Of course, they are called “lounging pants” which is a totally different animal than a “pajama pant”.

10. Rockin’ Rosettes Scarf

I just love a good scarf and this one makes me happy.

Rumor has it that sometime next week, P is going to guest post on the blog with a list of things you can get for the outdoorsman in your life. Of course rumor also had it that he was going to do it earlier this week, so I guess we’ll just wait and see what happens.

Also, my sister still hasn’t had her baby. ESPN + FREE FOOD = late baby boy

And now I’m off for a big shopping weekend. This is the weekend that Gulley and I have our annual Christmas shopping weekend where we shop until we can shop no more, fueled only by Starbucks Peppermint Mocha and lots of chips and queso.

Y’all have a great Friday.

Don’t forget about the giveaway.

And for more fashion, you can go visit Jo-Lynne at Musings of a Housewife.
Soup is better than geometry

Last night we went and picked out our Christmas tree. I don’t mean to exaggerate but it may be the best tree in the history of all our Christmas trees. To be honest, I’m a little intimidated to decorate it because I feel that my decorating abilities may be less than a tree of this magnitude deserves. I’d show you a picture of it in all its undecorated glory, but that would involve getting up off this warm couch to find my camera.

Every year at the tree lot, P and I engage in a lively discussion over what size tree we should buy. This is largely due to the fact that twelve years ago when we bought our first tree for this house, it was so big that we couldn’t get it through our front door. In my defense, I was just very enthusiastic about our nine foot ceilings and how they meant we could buy a tall tree. What I failed to factor in was a little thing called circumference. Geometry was never really my strongest subject.

I’m not even sure that circumference has anything to do with Geometry. Maybe I could write a seven step proof to figure it out. Oh wait, I forgot that there is NEVER another reason EVER in the history of your life to write a seven step proof once you barely pass Geometry.

Anyway, I need to go make sure all my lights still work because I plan to spend the better part of the day wrapping this baby with a thousand points of light. I just hope I can make it proud.

And I totally meant what I said yesterday about my intention to discuss a soup recipe. It’s been cold and rainy here all week (rumor has it we may have snow flurries on Friday which SURE WE WILL) so I’ve made all manner of soups and gumbos to help us through the long winter.

This one has been my favorite of the week. Super easy and like a warm hug on a winter’s day.

(If warm hugs were made of cheese tortellini.)

Italian Sausage Tortellini Soup

1 pound Italian sausage, casings removed (mild or spicy depending on your preference)
1 large onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
5 cups beef stock
1/3 cup water
1/2 cup red wine
28 oz. can peeled tomatoes, chopped
4 carrots, chopped
1/2 tsp. dried basil
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
8 oz. can tomato sauce
3 zucchini, chopped
8 ounces cheese tortellini
1 green bell pepper, chopped
1 tbs. chopped fresh parsley
Grated parmesan cheese for topping

Brown the sausage in a large pot. Drain all the grease except for 1 tablespoon, then add the onions and garlic and saute for 5 more minutes.

Add the beef stock, water, wine, tomatoes, carrots, basil, oregano and tomato sauce. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and let simmer for 30 minutes.

Add the zucchini, tortellini, green bell pepper and parsley. Simmer until tortellini is cooked (about 8-10 minutes). Serve in bowls topped with grated parmesan cheese.

It’s so good and you can make it even if you know nothing about concave polygons.
I originally intended this to be a post about soup

I haven’t mentioned a few things that have been going on around here lately. For instance, have I mentioned that my sister is pregnant? And due any second now? And by due any second, I mean that her due date was yesterday?

I cannot tell you how much I wanted to take a picture of her at Thanksgiving lunch, post it on the blog, and announce that my sister had ruined our Thanksgiving by swallowing the turkey whole. But I refrained since women who are forty weeks pregnant tend to frown upon a good Thanksgiving turkey joke.

So instead I’ve spent the last week being incredibly supportive and calling her every day to ask, “Hey, what’s the deal? When are you going to have that baby? Why is it taking so long?”

Sometimes I dispense helpful advice like that I heard eating eggplant parmesan can cause you to go into labor. I’m not sure where I heard it or if I actually ever heard it anywhere as opposed to just making it up in my head, but it makes me feel like I’m doing my part in trying to get my nephew to show up.

Her doctor is out of town this week, but he scheduled her to be induced this Monday if the baby hasn’t left the building of his own free will by then. I tend to think he’s going to stay put because have you ever heard of a man who leaves early when he can relax all he wants and the food is free? Plus, thanks to my brother-in-law, I’m pretty sure he’s getting a steady feed of ESPN in utero.

In other news, about six weeks ago, AJ, our dear friend and official Big Mama family photographer (I just made up that title. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have that on her official resume.) took family photos of us down at her ranch. As chief photo stylist for the shoot, I’d dressed us all in a variety of wintery attire even though it was blazing hot outside.

P walked outside in his sweater and announced, “You have me for three minutes”. We spent those precious three minutes trying to act candid and like it was perfectly natural for us to all walk through a field, throwing our heads back in laughter and dressed like we were in the Arctic Tundra instead of South Texas.

It was a tender moment.

Two days later, all of AJ’s camera equipment was stolen out of the back of her car. They got everything, including our Christmas card photos which were probably exactly what they were after. So if you receive a Christmas card that features a picture of a family walking through a field and looking very hot (I mean temperature hot, not looks hot. Just wanted to clarify. Although P was totally rockin’ his sweater.) there’s a good chance the people who sent you that card are thieves.

The good news is that insurance reimbursed AJ for everything that was stolen, except for my dream of mailing out my Christmas cards by December 2nd. It’s not like I’ve ever achieved that dream before, but THIS WAS GOING TO BE MY YEAR.

Anyway, she was in town last weekend and sweet enough to come by and take a few pictures of Caroline. I gave up on the family photo dream because, honestly, it was short notice and I didn’t feel like fixing my hair. Not to mention that P was on his way out the door to the ranch as evidenced by this picture that AJ snapped.

Oh, and did I mention that P was wearing his digital camo pants? Not that they don’t scream STYLE SAVVY because, OBVIOUSLY, they totally do.

Also, when did my daughter get to be six feet tall?

I’m pretty sure the following picture won’t make the Christmas card cut.

And I promise you this one won’t.

If you ever grow concerned that your prayer life isn’t what it should be, I totally recommend watching your child take pictures with someone else’s very expensive camera.

And after seeing this picture, I’m also praying for some type of miracle cure to even out my skin tone. My word, sun damage much?

By the way, if my sister is reading this, WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO HAVE YOUR BABY?