Author: Big Mama

Five cents says it was the worst offering at show and tell

Today started off with a tragic discovery.

I had made myself a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookie dough for my dinner the night before because it’s a new year and I’m trying to eat healthier. Anyway, somewhere between my third and eighteenth spoonful I forgot to put the dough back in the refrigerator and it sat out on the counter all night.

And honestly, I was so sad about it that I tried to convince myself that it was probably still okay. However, the fear of salmonella got the best of me and I put it in the sink while I continued to debate if it would really make me sick. I’m embarrassed to admit I finally turned on the faucet and filled the bowl with water to end my internal conflict over delicious cookie dough versus massive food poisoning.

Then, since Fridays are Show and Tell Day at Caroline’s school, I had to find something that starts with the letter N. I was at a loss. Even now I cannot think of anything we own that starts with an N. But I couldn’t send her without something for Show and Tell because the other kids might point and laugh at our N deprived lives.

I sent a nickel in a Ziploc bag.

I cannot make this stuff up.

Caroline told me the nickel was “awesome” and she was excited about it. I just hope someday next to her senior portrait in the yearbook it doesn’t say “kid who brought a nickel to show and tell”.

At 1:00 p.m. I went and got my haircut. Yes, there will be pictures and commentary next week. I’ll just say that I did make a change, but nothing too drastic. And as BooMama’s sister told me, it’s not an arm it will grow back. That is some sound counsel.

Anyway, then I searched high and low for the movie “Annie” because Caroline informed me she would like me to cook her dinner and then we could stay up late together to watch a movie. She’s never seen “Annie” and I thought it was genius of me to think of a movie I actually wouldn’t mind watching. I knew if I didn’t plan ahead I’d end up watching “Strawberry Shortcake’s Beach Party”.

She helped me make homemade macaroni and cheese for dinner because, again, we’re all about healthy living here and then announced she was ready to watch “Strawberry Shortcake”.

“What about ‘Annie’?”

“No, I don’t like the way it looks”.

“Really, but Peach Blossom and Gingersnap Mermaid talking to a berry-scented octopus looks normal to you?”

Except I didn’t say that. The only kind of mother that would say something like that would be the kind of mother who’d send their child to Show and Tell with a nickel in a Ziploc bag.

The good news is that after Strawberry Shortcake wrapped up her beach party, Caroline agreed to try “Annie”. Her little eyes were glued to the T.V. until she couldn’t keep them open anymore, so we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see how it ends.

Tomorrow.

Rumor has it that it’s only a day away.
Edition 13: Fashion Friday

Oooh, it’s like Friday the 13th. Although I have never actually seen any of the 142 installments of the Friday the 13th franchise because I am a big chicken. And while I realize I probably don’t need to fear a psycho in a hockey mask, it’s just better that I stay away. The one time I watched a horror movie I ended up sleeping with my mama for two weeks.

I was eighteen years old.

And I left for college after those two weeks, which was the only reason I stopped sleeping in her bed.

I am woman. Hear me roar.

Anyway, just to keep y’all in the hair loop, I have an appointment to get my hair cut at 1:00 today. I have no idea how brave I am going to be, but after deep introspection I have realized that I have hair issues. In fact, I have decided to share those issues with y’all starting Monday when I will present a Retrospective on My Hair. I believe it will be at least a two day series.

I’m not kidding.

I am seriously going to root deep into my hair issues and share them with y’all in both word and pictorial form. I realize knowing this bit of extreme narcissism is on the horizon will make it difficult for any of y’all to sleep this weekend.

Also, I forgot to mention that when Caroline saw my new red bargain-priced shoes, she gasped and exclaimed, “OH, THOSE ARE CHA-CHA!” I believe she was channeling Dolly Parton as Truvy in “Steel Magnolias”. She does make me proud.

Now for the questions, they are plentiful.

1. Kelli W. asks: “I am a lanky 5 feet 1 inches. And that’s pushing it a little. I have to look for pants in the petites, which in some stores means old lady elastic wiasts, etc. There is a store I love, with affordable but stylish jeans. They fit me great everywhere except, of course, in the legs because they are not petite. Should I hem them and, if so, will they look good?”

Kelli, somehow this question from long ago got lost in my Fashion Folder (a very official document if there ever was one). I apologize for the delay. Anyway, the answer is yes. Hem those jeans.

The trick is to find a tailor who will understand that you want the original hem to remain, otherwise the hem may not go with the rest of the jeans and have a weird look to it. I know that my tailor charges $10 more to use the original hem, but it’s worth it, especially if they have a little distressing on the hem.

2. Darlene asks: “I am going to be going on a Caribbean cruise at the end of February and I need to know if I should take things that are in fall/winter colors, or is it safe to take thing that say “Spring is just around the corner!”? Personally, I like the darker colors over the bright ones, but either way, I don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb. Do I dare pack my white capris?”

First, please take me with you. You’ll hardly notice I’m there and frankly, I could use the vacation. Don’t let the fact that you don’t know me and that I may overindulge in the all-you-can-eat cocktail shrimp buffet influence your decision.

Secondly, yes. Pack the white capris but by all means make sure you pack the appropriate undergarments. Pantylines are never acceptable, even on the Caribbean sea.

A cruise this time of year is the reason so many retailers come out with what they like to refer to as Resort Wear. It’s basically their way of saying “Hey, we would like you to buy summer clothes in February!” And as long as you use terms like “Resort” and “Cruise” it’s completely acceptable. For an example, check out Neiman Marcus’ Resort Essentials.

And yes, if you shop at Neimans on a regular basis then you probably need a large collection of Resort Wear. However, you can also find cute spring things at Target right now although they’re just called “Cute Spring Clothes”, which doesn’t sound nearly as fancy.

3. Alicia asks: “Help. I bought some Mossimo jeans with flap pockets in the back. Ever since washing them the first time, the flaps on the pockets won’t lay flat! I’ve laid the iron on them for several minutes, but it doesn’t help. Short of sewing them with a needle and thread, I’m at a loss.”

I don’t know if I can help but I will make two suggestions. If y’all have any thoughts on how to redeem these prodigal pockets, leave them in the comments.

I would try to spray them with water and/or spray starch and then iron them flat. However, you may have already attempted this.

If that doesn’t work I think they may have to go to the drycleaners. Or the trash bin. No one needs obstinate pocketage on their rear silhouette. It’s just wrong.

4. Rhonda asks: “I have a kitchen question of the utmost importance for you…i’m wondering if you’ve any suggestions or seen any stylish/cute receptacles to keep dish soap out on the kitchen counter? i’m sick of the plastic bottle that it comes in, but i’m holding out for “the one”!”

I realize this isn’t a fashion question per se, but I am not going to discriminate. After all, what’s the point in owning a fabulous pair of jeans if you’re standing at your sink with a plastic bottle of Dawn Dishwashing Liquid? That’s just tacky.

Anyway, this isn’t the most original idea but I saw it years ago in a magazine and loved it. You need to buy yourself a liquor pourer, which you can find here.

After you have secured a liquor pourer (oh how I want to make some obvious joke about a bartender) then go to an antique shop or someplace like Target and find a pretty glass bottle. Pour in your Dawn, twist on the liquor pourer and there you have it. A pretty, functional dish soap dispenser.

Plus, if you’re having a particularly bad day you can pop that pourer on a bottle of something else, like Diet Coke with Lime.

5. Christina didn’t ask. She suggested: “Maybe you can create a “What the celebrities should have worn to the Golden Globes if there had been Golden Globes” post.”

I thought long and hard about dedicating an entire post to what I believe stars should have worn to the Golden Globes if it were not for the Writer’s Strike that is currently ruining my life. The problem is I don’t really have access to seeing fabulous couture gowns that the celebs get to choose from because life is not fair.

However, if I were to attend an event such as the Golden Globes or anything dressier than say, going to HEB to buy milk, I would love to wear one of these gowns.

This lovely, bargain-priced Valentino. Although I would probably like it better in black.

And this beautiful Vera Wang, even though I’m not sure that yellow would flatter my skintone. But still, it is gorgeous.

Anyway, it would have been fun to compose an entire post about Golden Globe wardrobe possibilities, but I made an executive decision and instead y’all will be treated to endless ramblings about my hair issues both past and present.

I know.

You can hardly wait.

Have a great Friday.
Walking on cork-heeled sunshine

Yesterday was a big day for me. Of course, it’s all relative and considering the day before yesterday consisted of me doing a lot of nothing, I had nowhere to go but up.

The day started with an appointment with my beloved orthodontist. I felt pretty certain all would be well with my teeth, but I still have flashbacks to the days of rubberbands sealing my jaw shut while the metal eroded the inner lining of my mouth. However, he said everything looked great and I am OFFICIALLY done.

I never have to go back to the orthodontist again. OH HAPPY DAY.

Until it’s Caroline’s turn and then I will do the same thing she used to do for me during my appointments. I’ll stand by the chair, hold her hand and say “WOW, does that hurt? THAT LOOKS LIKE IT HURTS BAD!”

So, with the horrors of adult orthodontia behind me, I couldn’t imagine how my day could get any better. Oh, but it did.

I stopped in my favorite local boutique to just look. I was only looking. I promise I had no intention of buying.

But look what I found.

These.

And these.

While it may seem kind of frivolous that I bought not one, but two (TWO!) pairs of red shoes, let me tell y’all that they were on clearance for $10.00. TEN AMERICAN DOLLARS.

At that price I could practically wear them once and then throw them away. However, I would never do that because look at the cuteness. I was going to take a picture of them on my feet just to really highlight the fabulousness, but my toes are currently not ready for open-toe season. And I have this thing about feet even when in the best of condition.

And, no I don’t really know what I’ll wear them with, but TEN DOLLARS.

But I’m thinking the polka-dot wedges would look so fab with these shorts and this shirt. Hmmm, it’s like summer in a bowl.

If all that wasn’t enough good news for one day, I also made an important health-related discovery. I’ve been on an antibiotic for the last week due to an ailment completely unrelated to the flu. In the meantime, I have wondered if I am ever going to recover from the flu-related tiredness because I seriously fall asleep if I sit for more than five minutes at a time.

I have wondered several times over the last week if I actually do have a touch of the narcolepsy. Then, yesterday afternoon as I went to take my antibiotic I noticed a huge warning on the bottle that I had failed to see before saying “WARNING: THIS MEDICINE MAY CAUSE DROWSINESS LEADING TO SPORADIC NAPPING THROUGHOUT THE DAYTIME AND CAUSING YOU TO CONSTANTLY FEEL AS IF YOU’VE BEEN HIT BY A TRUCK. AND A LARGE CAR. AND POSSIBLY A CADILLAC ESCALADE.”

I was relieved to know there is an actual medical reason for why I have been so completely worthless over the last ten days, but couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed the warning before.

I guess I fell asleep in the middle of reading the package insert.

I just feel so fortunate that I haven’t fallen asleep in the middle of something important and life-changing, such as shopping for bargain-priced shoes.
The winter of my follicular discontent

My mind is a vast wasteland at the moment. I’m just going to blame it on the new season of “American Idol” because why not? Everyone knows reality t.v. is a symbol of all that is wrong with America and is numbing our minds until there is nothing left. But if loving it is wrong, I don’t want to be right.

Plus, “American Idol” is different because it is a very scientific process of finding the next person in America who may or may not make a CD that anyone will want to buy.

In other scientific news (because it’s all about the science here), several people emailed me the link to this article yesterday. Apparently, on some subconscious level I knew what I was talking about, the black plague is actually making a comeback (unlike Taylor Hicks) which just goes to show those people at the Medical Clinic had no idea what they were talking about. I sensed in my heart that Black Plague was a possibility.

But, can we take a minute to talk about something that is weighing on my mind?

Now, I realize this haircut would be a colossal mistake for me for several reasons. Number one, the bangs are no longer my friend. I discovered post-pregnancy hormones did horrible, unspeakable things to my bang potential when I tried to imitate Reese Witherspoon’s hair last year. And number two, I do not have the stunning bone structure of Katie Holmes so there is a good possibility this haircut could cause me to look like a mushroom cap. And resembling fungi is so out this year.

Truth be told, this is just something I do every six months or so. I cut out pictures from magazines, I scour the internet, I stop strangers on the street and ask who cuts their hair.

And then I go to my hairdresser and get my split ends trimmed.

Because I am daring and adventurous.

But maybe this time will be different. Maybe I’ll walk in and tell her to cut off 8-12 inches. I’ll throw coiffure caution to the wind.

Or probably not.

But if I were brave enough, I might try this.

Or this.

Or this.

Yes, I realize this is basically three versions of the same haircut, but humor me please.

And, of course I’ve already tried this and it failed. Yet it calls to me in it’s sleekness and sophistication.

What about y’all? Is there a new haircut you’re dying to try? Are you a hair adventurer or do you get stuck in a rut?

And what about gray hair? I mean, HYPOTHETICALLY, if a person is starting to see more and more gray pop up, how should they handle that?
Straight from the retro chic bag lady collection

First, let me thank y’all for staying civil in the comments yesterday. While I realized the Veggie Tales are very near and dear to many of your produce-loving hearts, I didn’t realize the intensity of the devotion. In all fairness, I have never heard the hairbrush song, so I could be missing out on musical greatness for all I know.

And I won’t get into my thoughts on why would a cucumber need a hairbrush in the first place. That’s a whole can of asparagus that I don’t care to open.

Thank you. I’ll be here all week.

Plus, we have reached crisis level at the house of Big Mama. This whole wardrobe issue is OUT OF CONTROL.

And I’m not just talking about P and his closet full of camo and Columbia fishing shirts.

Yesterday morning, Caroline had school and most school days I can manage to get her dressed in an appropriate outfit while she’s mesmerized by “Wow Wow Wubbzy!” without her realizing that her clothes actually match. Oh sure, she’ll add in a headband or three and perhaps clip her hair back with eight different clips, but at least she’s dressed for the right weather and only has on one pair of underwear as opposed to two pairs with some bloomers for good measure.

However, all that has changed. She now insists on going into her closet and picking out her own outfit. I already mentioned this led to her “WORST DAY EVER” on Saturday and then yesterday morning we reached full crisis mode.

She wanted to wear one of her zebra dresses (and yes, it’s a testament to my stellar fashion guidance that she owns more than one zebra print dress) so she disappeared into what I am now referring to as the closet of doom for about fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes, by the way, that we don’t have to spare on a school morning, because if her class leaves for chapel before she gets there then I have to wait another hour before I can drop her off.

Tragic consequences.

I finally entered into the sacred closet to see what was holding up the process. I found her sitting on the floor of her closet wearing a long-sleeved zebra print dress while trying to pull another long-sleeve navy striped dress over the zebra dress. I am all for layering, but no way was that going to work. She’d look like an overstuffed oompa loompa waddling on the playground.

I told her she couldn’t wear two dresses at once, which led to the phrase that is quickly becoming a tagline at our house, “THIS IS THE WORST DAY EVER!” And what I wanted to say is “Sister, you don’t know worst day until you wear two dresses at once and the temperature gets up to 70 degrees this afternoon.”

Instead, I told her she could wear the zebra dress with leggings, tights or her jeans. She chose her jeans. With the zebra dress. With light-up tennis shoes. And a long, hot pink sweater coat.

She looked much like a four year old bag lady.

And as I passed the mamas walking with their darling two year old girls who were wearing precious smocked dresses with darling socks and maryjanes, I wanted to say “Don’t judge me, because your day? It is coming.”

Then, when she got home from school she changed into what she believed to be the best possible outfit for a little afternoon tree climbing in the backyard.

She is one side ponytail and a bottle of bleach away from looking just like Chrissy Snow.

Well, if Chrissy Snow wore socks pulled up to her knees with black patent shoes.

The girl has her own unique style. Which is going to require me to put the summer clothes up on a very high shelf.
Of course, maybe the truth is she doesn’t like Veggie Tales either

P left town on Thursday to go guide some hunts for a friend. Technically, yes, this was work since he was getting paid, but it’s essentially the equivalent of someone telling me they’ll pay me to go shop at Anthropologie.

And if any of y’all know how I can get that job, then hook me up.

So, anyway, it was just Caroline and me this weekend. I could tell by how hard she cried when P left that she had totally bought into my promise that we were going to have an AWESOME girls’ weekend, just the two of us. She just knows that time spent with me isn’t going to involve any dead animals (God-willing) and WOW, who can blame her for thinking I’m a big pile of NO FUN?

We got our girls’ weekend off to a roaring start by going to eat Mexican food with Mimi and Bops on Friday night. Caroline wanted to sit outside but it was too cold. Of course she doesn’t care about shallow things like temperature, so she spent the first half of dinner pouting into her chips and guacamole. Finally, I’d had enough and we headed to the ladies restroom to have a little discussion about the consequences of anymore pouting, which may or may not have included serious threats like leaving without eating our cheese enchiladas. I don’t play around.

Saturday morning she woke up bright and ready to conquer the world. I, on the other hand, had no idea what we were going to do with the twelve hours that stretched before us. But, after 853 times of her asking, “What are we going to do today? Where are we going? What’s our plan for today?”, I realized I better come up with a strategy, because, apparently her plan was to keep asking until my brain leaked out of my ears.

We called and invited her friend Emily to go see the new Veggie Tales movie with us. Emily was thrilled, her mama was even more thrilled, and Caroline was the most thrilled of all. We packed my purse full of Sour Patch Kids and went to pick up Emily.

And here’s why I like Emily, she brought her Barbie purse packed with her own supply of Sour Patch Kids. Her parents are raising her right and it warms my heart to know Caroline has befriended a little girl whose family has values so similar to our own.

The girls seemed to like the movie. I’m just going to go out on a limb and risk total ostracism by the parenting community and confess that I don’t really like Veggie Tales. I think all that produce hopping about and wielding swords when everyone knows cucumbers and asparagus don’t have hands is just unnatural. All that fighting and rescuing is going on and all I can think is who cares about a green pea in a pirate’s hat? And why is there a blueberry? Aren’t blueberries a fruit?

I realize the Veggie Tales are worth some kind of Christian mega-fortune and obviously I don’t know a clever marketing scheme to save my life. I’m just being honest. I don’t want to talk to tomatoes. I think they’re a marginally decent vegetable at best.

Anyway, we came home from the movie and the girls played in the backyard. I’m not sure what they were playing but it involved carrying all the firewood off the back porch and loading into a wagon. There was also some sort of elaborate trap using a Little Tikes lawnmower and the dog leash.

Caroline and I had plans to go to dinner again with Mimi and Bops. I got us all cleaned up and then she ran in her room to pick out her own outfit. It took her the better part of thirty minutes to get dressed and then she finally came out wearing a sundress with spaghetti straps over a pair of capri pants. It was 50 degrees outside.

I told her she absolutely couldn’t wear that, it was too cold and those were summer clothes. She threw herself on her bed and I am not kidding, said, “THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY WHOLE LIFE!”

Which immediately made me feel so good. Because if we’ve managed to make it four and a half years only to have the worst day of her life be a day that involved getting to go to a movie, eat massive amounts of candy and popcorn, and have a friend over to play, then I am doing a fabulous job with this whole motherhood thing.

In spite of the fact that I don’t like the Veggie Tales.