Author: Big Mama

For everything else, there’s Visa

This time last week I had big dreams of spending an entire week doing nothing but sleeping late and watching a bunch of episodes of Scooby-Doo in between trips to the pool. It would be like my sophomore year of college all over again.

Instead, we ended up having a week filled with various activities that kept us busy. Unfortunately, none of those activities were actually on my official to-do list.

Not that I really have an official list, but if I did it’s safe to say that going over to Gulley’s house and eating Church’s chicken for lunch wouldn’t be on it. Although it totally should be.

The reality is that P has a list for me that includes things like getting my oil changed, taking my car to be inspected, and getting my tires rotated. How am I supposed to get all that done with my hectic pool schedule? It’s bad enough that the summer is already half over and I haven’t even started watching “Veronica Mars” on DVD which was totally going to be one of my summertime shows.

Anyway, our weekend didn’t turn out to be any less action-packed than the previous week, so I have big plans to stay in my pajamas until noon today. I’m not even ashamed to admit it.

The big drama in our weekend occurred Saturday evening. We’d met a bunch of our friends at the pool to swim and eat dinner. Unfortunately, it was the one hour in the entire summer that thunder was heard in the distance so the kids had to entertain themselves by just running around the pool area for the better part of an hour. They were having a great time playing hide and seek all around the men and womens’ bathrooms (ewww) while all the adults caught up on life. All of a sudden we hear shrieking. Loud shrieking. Loud shrieking that is coming from my child.

At first I thought she stubbed her toe but then my motherhood instincts told me she’d been stung by a bee, mainly because she was screaming, “I GOT STUNG BY A BEE! I GOT STUNG BY A BEE!” I ran over and picked her up because she’d actually stepped on the bee and it stung her on the bottom of her foot. As soon as I got her over to where we were sitting, I got her to show me exactly where she’d been stung while Gulley went all MacGyver on us, grabbed her credit card and used it to flick the stinger out of Caroline’s foot. I haven’t seen her use a credit card that fast since we were in college and she used her daddy’s card to buy some fab new boot shoes at Foley’s.

(They were worth every penny, too.)

I put some ice on the sting and applied some Benadryl which seemed to help. Oddly enough, this legitimately painful incident elicited far less drama and hysteria than we often experience when she’s discovered she left her favorite swimsuit at Mimi and Bops’ house. About ten minutes after the sting, the lifeguards blew the all-clear whistle to get back in the pool and she was off and swimming with her buddies.

They all agreed that P made a fantastic pool flotation device.

We swam until we shut the pool down and then headed home to get not nearly enough sleep before it was time to get up for church. I knew Caroline was tired yesterday afternoon when we were sitting on the couch watching the end of “Charlotte’s Web”. There was a winter scene that showed snow and all of a sudden she turned to me with tears in her eyes and said, “Mama, I’m just so sad that it never snows here. It just makes me so sad I’m going to cry.”

First of all, why are we concerned about snow when it’s 112 degrees outside? Secondly, if you’re going to get upset about something how about the universal health care plan? Third, how much fun is puberty going to be? Poor P is probably going to have to take some type of sedative to survive all the hormonal fluctuations in this house.

Yesterday afternoon we went back to the pool so we could all hang out again but this time we decided to bypass the pool grill for dinner because there is only so much popcorn shrimp prepared by cranky teens that you can eat in a lifetime. P decided it would be fun to have everyone back over to our house for burgers, so we left the pool a little early to get everything ready.

About twenty minutes later Gulley came hobbling into the house while the kids danced excitedly around her and announced that she’d stepped on a bee and got stung on the bottom of her foot. Fortunately, Caroline and Jackson had the presence of mind to run and get her credit card.

Fortunately for her, no one sells cute boot shoes at the pool so it’s safe to assume they only used it for medicinal purposes.
Fashion Friday…kind of

If there are any of you out there who don’t believe the internet has some power, then let me tell you that there is now an empty space in my living room where those boxes used to reside. Of course, let’s be honest, who doesn’t believe the internet is a powerful tool? Other than maybe the Amish?

Although they do know the power of a roll and glow fireplace.

But that’s not important right now. What is important is that it’s that time of year; the time of year when summer fashion goes on sale so retailers can play mind games with customers by turning down the A/C and rolling out some sweaters just in time for August.

On Tuesday night I went shopping with some friends and we found some great deals. I even found a white pair of jeans after years of believing that the attractive white jean was just an urban legend and, best of all, they were on sale. Sadly, I cannot link to any of our finds because we were at The Rack. However, I’ve stumbled across a few other really cute things online (See? The internet is powerful) and I thought I’d share them with y’all.

So it’s kind of like Fashion Friday is back, except I’m not sure that I’m totally ready to commit to it every week yet. Also, if you’ve ever sent me a Fashion Friday question you need to know that my yahoo email doesn’t like me and deleted that entire file.

And why am I still blah, blah, blah when all you care about this point are the goods?

1. I fell in love with this Rainyday Mac when I received my first issue of the Spring/Summer Boden catalog back in March. Since that time I’ve received about eleven more Boden catalogs because apparently Boden isn’t afraid to use some paper. They also know that I am a sucker for 20% off and free shipping. It’s my love language.

Anyway, the Rainyday Mac is just as cute as it was the first time I laid eyes on it and turned down the page longingly, but it’s now 50% off. If it ever rained in San Antonio, it would have had me at hello.

2. Speaking of Boden, I also adore this Fab printed coat. It’s, well, FAB.

3. I bought this flutter sleeve pom-pom t-shirt last month when I found it on sale at Gap. I love it because it’s as comfortable as a t-shirt, but it feels cuter because of the pom-pom factor.

So basically it’s like the cheerleader of apparel.

4. There are all kinds of good deals to be found on shoes right now. I think these Neon patent capri sandals are darling and would add a little pop to any outfit.

I also adore these Camili ornamented sandals. They would look great with my new white jeans but I’m leaving the white jeans long so I can wear them with a heel. It’s not that I think you really care about my hem decision, but it’s been a decision I’ve wrestled with a lot over the last twenty-four hours.

And if you need a sandal with a heel for jeans that you’ve decided to leave long, I think these Sonya huarache platform wedges are great. Plus, I cannot see the word “huarache” without being immediately transported back to eighth grade. My white huaraches were to die for when paired with my Guess jeans and a ribbon belt.

5. I love this ruffled tank from J.Crew. It would look great with a cute skirt or a pair of jeans and it’s a little kickier than your average tank.

6. I recently saw this Big Buddha Hollywood Bag and I wanted to pledge my undying love and devotion to it. At least until something better comes along or the bottom of it gets filled animal cracker crumbs and leaky juice box remnants.

This slouchy leather bag is also cute and on sale since it’s white and the clock is ticking on white. Only about one and half months and six hundred heat strokes left until Labor Day.

And on a completely practical and bargain-related note, this canvas tote is pretty cute and comes in a lot of different colors.

7. Every week I watch “The Bachelorette” and have several thoughts that run through my head. Thoughts like “What makes a man decide to wear green shorty shorts on national television?” or “Does Jillian realize that Kiptyn’s mother would be the kind of mother-in-law that they make Lifetime movies about?” But the most consistent thought is that while I question her taste in men, I love her taste in accessories.

These Berrones earrings and this silver woven cuff bracelet remind me of the kind of stuff she wears.

I think they’re wicked cute. (I can’t believe I just went there. Totally cannot pull that off.)

8. Last night on E! News (the source of all serious news events) they did a quick fashion report on undergarments. I was watching because they mentioned Chickies which are made by a friend of mine and are a fabulous invention for taking care of cleavage issues without having to layer a bunch of tank tops.

They also mentioned the Lilyette strapless minimizer bra. I tried one on and I can tell you that it lives up to the hype. Best strapless bra ever.

9. You know a list isn’t complete unless I mention a few things from Anthropologie. This Toppings blouse is on sale and just darling in either white or orange.

And if that’s not quite your style, then check out this Gossamer Web top. So cute.

10. Lately I’ve loved the statement ring even though they don’t really work when you have short little fingers, but a girl can still dream. This turquoise ring is great and so is this one.

That’s all for now. I just had a little person come stumbling out of her room and she needs her mama to go tuck her back in.

Y’all have a great Friday.
Thinking outside the boxes

I’ve been sitting here for the last three hours in complete procrastination mode because, deep down, I know I have nothing interesting to say. Actually, that’s not true because the realization that I have nothing interesting to say is right on the surface, not deep down.

Caroline spent most of yesterday with P’s family. My brother-in-law and sister-in-law are in town and they invited Caroline to go with them to the Quadrangle which is basically a petting zoo on the Fort Sam Houston base. They invited me to go along but I declined because if there is anything I like less than a zoo, it’s a petting zoo. Not to mention the fact that I am attempting to show the 100 degree temperatures who’s boss and now refuse to leave home for any length of time unless swimming in some sort of body of water is involved.

That strategy is probably going to make going to the grocery store a little tricky. I guess I should amend my policy to add that I will also go to establishments that aren’t afraid to crank up the A/C and offer me the chance to stand in the freezer section with the doors wide open while I act like I’m trying to choose between a DiGiorno frozen pizza or a Tombstone.

Although there is no choice to be made. Tombstone is clearly the winner in that scenario. Their thin crust pepperoni has not let me down in almost twenty years.

Anyway, while Caroline was petting deer out in the blistering heat in the name of fun, I planned to clean the house. I managed to get the bathrooms clean on Monday but lost momentum when I remembered that I hate cleaning the house.

There is also a minor issue that is proving to be a hindrance to my cleaning efforts. I mean something other than the fact that I like to call Gulley every few minutes and tell her how much I hate cleaning and wish I had a maid and how people who whine a lot get on my nerves.

There are boxes in my living room.

They’ve been there since we got back from our road trip. They’re addressed to P and each box weighs approximately 170 pounds. I don’t know what’s in them because I haven’t asked. I haven’t asked because I know the answer is going to be something that I have no interest in because what are the odds he’s going to say “I ordered you all sorts of cute new shoes for fall!”?

I just know that we now own a lot of something that is both heavy and fragile, much like my self-esteem after I attempted to do Level 3 of The Shred.

I finally just vacuumed around them because I am powerless to move them. Jillian Michaels can do a lot of things but giving me the upper body strength to move 300 pound boxes isn’t one of them.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll drape them with some fabric and create an alternate seating area for the room. And just think how cute they’d look decked out in lights for Christmas.

Of course my intuition (and the fact that I’ve been married to P for almost twelve years and know him well) tells me that the contents are probably somehow related to hunting season which means they’ll no longer be a part of my decor by mid-September.

Until then, I’ll just enjoy stepping over them every time I have to get to my front door.
Faster than a speeding bullet

Last night I was getting ready to go shopping and out to dinner with some friends when I realized it had been at least ten minutes since Caroline had walked into the bathroom to comment on my choice of outfit or beg to use my eyelash curler. I walked into the living room to see what she was doing and this is what I found.

She told me that it was her new superhero costume.

It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s Samurai Pirate Butterfly Girl.

Complete with extra large black boots.
Welcome to the real world

One of the problems with coming home from a long vacation is an overtired child now programmed to believe that every new day is filled with fun and exciting activities. I mean, once you’ve been to Waco twice in one week everything else is just a letdown. I’m still struggling to get her back into some sort of routine that involves going to bed before 11:00 and eating something other than processed sugar for breakfast. Of course, in all fairness, I’m struggling with those same issues myself.

Yesterday morning I got up, cleaned my bathrooms and did The Shred as penance for my Krispy Kreme transgressions and I have never been more certain that my body was plotting a violent coup against my brain. It’s hard to get back to real life where everyday isn’t filled with lily pad obstacle courses and sympathetic family friends who don’t mind letting you use fifty-two Scooby Doo band-aids to cover one minor scrape.

In fact, I believe the transition to reality from fantasy is why it never works out for the folks on “The Bachelor”. One minute you’re jet-setting from Spain to Maui within 48 hours and the next thing you know you’ve committed to spend the rest of your life with a guy who wears inappropriately short green swim trunks and a blue heathered tank top. Who isn’t going to rethink that decision?

I didn’t mean to get off track, but I couldn’t let the tank top pass. I don’t know what broke my heart more last night, Ed’s sartorial choices or that Jillian sent Reid home. Note to Jillian and any other single girls out there: Pick the guy that makes you laugh. Good abs fade away, but laughter is forever.

Also, seriously think about whether or not you want to spend the rest of your life with a guy who wears a tank top in public. Just because we live in a country where he can show his hairy man pits in public doesn’t mean he should.

Anyway, the other problem with reality is the grocery store elves failed to magically restock my pantry and fridge while I was gone. Even the dogs had run out of food. Of course they didn’t mind because P had fed them ground venison for the last few nights, which is high cotton compared to their usual fare of Purina One Lamb & Rice.

Before we left town I’d gone to HEB and bought some ham and cheese so P could make himself sandwiches for lunch. We also had some lasagna and meatloaf leftovers so I opened the refrigerator before I left and blessed them saying “Be ye fruitful and multiply” in the hopes they would miraculously feed him for a week. I don’t think it worked because I came home to cabinets that Old Mother Hubbard would pity.

I decided to bite the grocery store bullet and go to HEB on Sunday, mainly because I had no choice unless I wanted to serve dried out baby carrots, old celery, half an onion and a few spoonfuls of peanut butter for dinner with a choice of stale Chips Ahoy or expired Trix yogurt for dessert.

P had already started a list before I got home and it included what he believes to be essential items:

Dog Food
Raw Sugar
York Peppermint Patties
Nilla Wafers
Coffee Grinder

Coffee grinder? Why do we need a coffee grinder?

I’ll tell you why. The other night we (he) was watching Uncle Ted’s hunting show and an ad came on for Uncle Ted’s coffee (Uncle Ted is quite the renaissance man) and P decided if it’s good enough for Uncle Ted then it’s good enough for him. I told him I’d order it for him because I didn’t want sixty pounds of it showing up on our door step and while I was out of town he got his ONE POUND ONLY of Wackmaster Sunrize delivered. (I couldn’t make up a better name if I tried)

Unfortunately the Wackmaster Sunrize (oh how I love a “z” in place of an “s”) came in whole bean form, thus the need for a grinder.

Anyway, I filled my cart to overflowing with everything I needed to prepare delicious home-cooked meals for my family or, you know, to heat up a frozen pizza, but then I got to the cereal aisle and experienced two HUGE disappointments.

I tend to get on food kicks, meaning I will find a food I like and will eat it almost constantly until I never want to see it again and just the thought of it makes my stomach turn. My current obsession is Dannon Lowfat Vanilla Yogurt topped with granola and fresh berries. I’ve eaten it for breakfast for about three months straight which is a personal record. Words cannot express my joy at the yogurt and granola.

So imagine my dismay when I realized HEB was completely out of my Bear Naked Triple Berry Crunch granola. I am a triple berry loyalist and there is no acceptable substitute. HEB is NEVER out of the Triple Berry Crunch. I just stood there staring at the empty shelf space where the Triple Berry Crunch is supposed to be trying to will it into existence. But, alas, I had to settle for an inferior product.

Then I headed further down the aisle to buy P’s favorite breakfast food, Peanut Butter Kashi Bars. Guess what? They were out of them.

I’m not one to cry “conspiracy theory” but I believe someone or something is trying to cheat us out of our complete breakfast experience. How else do explain the simultaneous lack of Peanut Butter Kashi Bars and Triple Berry Crunch granola?

Well, other than to say that sometimes real life is hard.

Of course it’s even harder if you’re married to a man who wears tank tops in public.

Which is why I made P throw all of his away once we got married.
24 ounces of lesson learned

I feel like since y’all were kind enough to follow our road trip adventures last week that I need to bring the story to a close even though we’ve now been home for two days and I’m currently buried under a pile of unfolded laundry. I’ve always believed that folding is overrated, especially because I live with two people who believe that rummaging through drawers for a certain article of clothing while messing up everything else is a form of high art.

Disclaimer: There will be no pictures from this portion of the road trip saga because the batteries in my camera died. I believe this serves as a metaphor for the last hour of our trip.

On Friday morning, Honey picked up breakfast for us from the only food group we’d neglected in the course of our travels, Shipley’s chocolate-iced donuts and kolaches. I’ve always believed that nothing gets you going in the morning like some fried dough covered in chocolate with a side of sausage encased in a buttery roll. It’s the breakfast of champions, granted probably just champions who win hot dog eating contests for a living but whatever.

Gulley and I weren’t in any hurry to get on the road so we decided to take the kids to a nearby splash pad to burn some energy before we got in the car. Will decided he’d rather go with Honey to visit Nena because Nena styles his hair for him when he visits and he’s a fan of the gelled coiffure. So Gulley and I took Caroline and Jackson to play in the water, which was a great idea until Caroline fell and skinned her knee and the top of her foot.

You would have thought we’d just amputated her leg with a dull butter knife. She was actually fine until she saw the blood and then she went into the vapors. We left the park to pick up Chick-fil-A for lunch (no, we didn’t dress like cows because I have limits as to what I’ll do for free food and I couldn’t find anything to make a cow costume with) while Caroline continued to moan about her injury and the cruelty of life. It was like a monologue from a Lifetime movie and finally ended with me interrupting her to tell the story of the little boy who cried wolf. I’m not sure it was entirely relevant for the situation, but it was the first fable that came to mind since I didn’t recall any about a little girl whose mama leaves her in Bryan, Texas because she is a drama queen.

We got the kids home and settled at the table to eat their lunch. All was well until Honey walked in with Nena and Will. Caroline realized she had a fresh audience for her tale of woe, got up from the table and began to hop over to where they stood while she said in her most pitiful voice, “Honey, I’m not hopping because I want to but because I fell and scraped my knee.”

Did she not learn anything from my recounting the tale of the little boy who cried wolf?

I told her to sit down and eat her nuggets before I started telling her another fable, perhaps one involving children who aren’t fortunate enough to spend part of their summer vacation in Waco, Texas.

After the kids finished eating lunch and got up from the table, Nena leaned over to me and whispered, “Caroline seems to enjoy ill-health.” Gulley mouthed to me across the table, “It takes one to know one.” Nena is herself a fan of any type of illness. In fact, if you ask her she’ll tell you she’s had six surgeries in the past two years even though three of those were root canals.

We thought about leaving after lunch but really wanted to see our friend Tiff and her kids. Our plan was to stay about thirty minutes so we were a little behind schedule when we left three hours later, but it was so worth it even though we were tired and ready to get home.

The drive went smoothly until we reached the halfway point in Bastrop. We stopped for a potty break and the kids all begged to get something to drink. Clearly we were a little off our game because we let each of them get their own 24 ounce bottle of Gatorade. Then, because I am an idiot, I got in the car and made the dumbest declaration of all time, just thinking about it makes me want to bless my own heart.

I turned around, looked them all in the eye, and said, “WE ARE NOT MAKING ANY MORE STOPS. DO NOT DRINK MORE THAN WHAT YOU NEED TO DRINK BECAUSE THERE WILL BE NO MORE POTTY STOPS. I REPEAT, THERE WILL BE NO MORE POTTY STOPS. DRINK ONLY WHAT YOU NEED.”

Genius.

About five minutes later, Gulley and I were deep in conversation in the front seat when we heard some cheering and yelling coming from the backseat. We turned around to see what was going on and, I KID YOU NOT, Caroline and Will are having a Gatorade chugging contest to see who can finish their bottle first.

My first thought was that their ability to drink 24 ounces quickly does not bode well for their college years. My second thought was to wonder if I need to take Caroline to the doctor to get her hearing checked.

Sure enough, we had to stop fifteen minutes from home so those two clowns could go to the bathroom. I think they each went for about four minutes without stopping.

Finally we were about six blocks from my house when Will announced he needed to go again. Gulley and I both said (maybe yelled) “YOU CAN HOLD IT. IT’S JUST SIX BLOCKS.” I pulled up to my house and handed Gulley my house keys so she could take Will to the bathroom while I unloaded the car.

But it was too late.

Will had let himself out and was happily peeing in the yard right outside my house, which considering that we’re in the midst of a drought isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Unless you’re the person in black Suburban who drove by in time to see the whole thing.

The end.