Author: Big Mama

  • Imagine if it had been a Reeses peanut butter cup

    Caroline just walked through the kitchen and asked if she could have a piece of candy from her never-ending supply of Halloween candy.

    I told her she could pick one thing.

    She began rummaging through her Disney Princess bucket as if her life depended on it. She rejected Nerds, Sweet-tarts, and some Skittles.

    Finally, she pulled out a giant Tootsie Roll and said, “OH YEAH, BABY!”

    That’s my girl.

  • Edition 7: Fashion Friday

    YOU’RE WELCOME.

    I’m just going to go ahead and get that out of the way because I am about to share an incredible fashion resource with y’all. It could change your life, or at least your closet.

    This is even better than when I shared how to buy a bra and I happen to know that changed some people’s lives. There were women who had been scared of wearing knitwear post-childbirth, but thanks to the proper use of underwire they now feel free to wear sweaters again.

    And I won’t even get into the women who were claiming to be larger than a B cup but were wearing tank tops with shelf bras as their means of support. Sister, either you’re not larger than a B cup or you’re putting your girls in serious peril.

    Anyway, here’s the tip. It’s a site called SHOP IT TO ME.

    The site asks for all your fashion information. The type of clothes you’re looking for, brand names you prefer, and the sizes you wear in everything. You can even enter information for your child and your husband. I entered Caroline’s information, but not P’s because how many Columbia fishing shirts does one person need?

    Once all your information is in the system, Shop It To Me will send you an email every Tuesday and Friday letting you know what’s on sale in your size and where you can find it for any brand that you chose in your profile. It’s BRILLIANT.

    The internet never ceases to amaze and delight me. Next thing you know there will be a site where people can upload home videos for all the world to see.

    On to the questions.

    1. Jennifer asks: Alright, I have been putting off this question…What is the deal with WHITE…shoes, pants, when to wear them and when not?

    The deal with white is that all good Southern girls are raised from birth to believe that wearing white shoes or carrying a white purse after Labor Day could lead to eternal damnation or worse, being permanently banned from Junior League.

    However, while I would still never dream of wearing white shoes after Labor Day, or really EVER, the fashion world now smiles kindly on what is called Winter White.

    Winter White can look very elegant and sophisticated, unless you are the mother of a child who may pat your bottom at some point during the day leaving behind a grape jelly handprint, then it just looks like an unfortunate wardrobe decision. That’s why I save white clothing for child-free vacations or never.

    This outfit from Ann Taylor is a good example of how to do Winter White.

    Please note that the shoes and purse are not white. If they were, this whole blog might actually self-implode and cause your computer to crash.

    And also, your grandmother to gasp in horror.

    2. Stacy asks: I have a question about pantyhose. I am from up north and was taught to always wear pantyhose, or tights for winter, with a dress or skirt for work. Is this just a northern thing?

    I remember the first time I was allowed to wear hose instead of tights it was like a right of passage. I believe I wore them with my Yo-Yos which, if I remember correctly, were open-toe shoes. That’s just unfortunate.

    Tights are back in this year so I think you’ll see women who live both north and south of the Mason-Dixon line wearing them. I think the fundamental difference is that Northern women wear hose and tights out of necessity whereas Southern women wear them according to if they are currently in style.

    Nude hose, otherwise known as SUNTAN, are no longer in vogue. The days of the L’eggs Eggs are over and Southern women are now free to sport bare legs as God intended, UNLESS they work in a conservative work environment that still requires legs to be encased in nylon.

    If you have to wear nude hose or just enjoy wearing them (does such a person exist?), then think sheer. The hose should be as close to your natural skin tone as possible. And for fashion’s sake, do not wear them with open-toe sandals.

    3. Beth asks: I’m in the cold North East where you can’t really wear sneakers during the winter because the snow or slush is up to your ankles. What do I wear on my feet to go with a “sporty” look? Say I’m wearing yogapants, long sleeved layering T’s and a ski jacket. Are there any kind of boots that look athletic enough for this? What would you wear?

    Oh Beth. If you only knew how long I have deliberated over this question.

    First, let me say that I wouldn’t wear anything because if there was snow or slush involved I would be inside drinking hot chocolate with my feet as close to the fireplace as possible without causing them to spontaneously combust. However, that probably isn’t a practical solution when you live in a place that has weather like that more than once every fourteen years.

    So, I’m going to throw out a few suggestions for a sporty boot. At first I couldn’t even imagine such a thing, but then I found these.

    Or these.

    But as for me, on cold winter days, I will be wearing these.

    INSIDE.

    4. Candace asks: I just realized that my husband’s work Christmas party is “after 5 cocktail”- could you give me an idea of what this looks like. Do I have to wear a dress or skirt?

    No, you do not have to wear a dress or skirt. Although you certainly can, as long as you don’t wear white shoes.

    Here’s the best advice I can give you. Wear something you’ll feel comfortable in. The last thing in the world you want to do is spend the evening trying to discreetly adjust your strapless bra in front of your husband’s co-workers. Trust me.

    And remember, you can never go wrong with a basic black dress. Unless you own a white dog that sheds a lot.

    I would go fairly conservative since it’s a work party, so maybe something like this.

    Or this.

    Or, for a little color, this.

    These are just a few ideas. The important thing is to find something you like.

    And if that’s none of these things, I won’t take it personally. Although it is midnight and I am scouring the internet looking for things just for you.

    That’s it for this week. Don’t forget to go sign up over at Shop It To Me.

    There are sale items everywhere just waiting to be discovered.

    If you have a question for next week, leave it in the comments.

    Hope y’all have a fabulous Friday.

  • The law of gravity and albuterol syrup

    There aren’t really words to describe the level of hyperactivity that the albuterol has caused in Caroline.

    Except to say at one point this afternoon I thought the sheer perpetual motion of her body might propel her off the face of the earth.

    But you know what they say, what goes up, must come down.

    That’s the bathroom scale she’s using as a pillow.

  • Yesterday all my troubles weren’t so far away

    Yeah.

    So yesterday pretty much stunk up the place.

    We started the day with gymnastics or I should say, Caroline started the day with gymnastics. My gymnastics career officially ended when Caroline was a year old and I attempted to do a cartwheel in the front yard for her amusement because hey! I knew how to do cartwheels 20 years ago. A fact that, as I crashed down upon myself due to lack of upper body strength, brought me little comfort.

    Anyway, Caroline has had a cough due to cold for about the last week and a half. I’ve been waiting for it to get better, hoping against hope that I wouldn’t have to take her to the pediatrician’s office because, you know, GIANT PETRI DISH. I finally realized it was inevitable since it appeared a sinus infection had taken up occupancy.

    She hasn’t seemed to feel bad at all. In fact, while I was gone over the weekend, she and P went to a football game, went hunting, and ate lots of candy, so I went ahead and took her to gymnastics this morning and we headed for the doctor’s office immediately afterwards.

    We waited in the POOL OF BACTERIA AND INFESTATION for 50 long minutes before they called us back. This allowed plenty of time for her to play with the flu contaminated abacus while playing with various children coated in mucus.

    Perfect.

    They finally called her name and I hosed us both down with anti-bacterial gel. Mercifully, our pediatrician came in the room right away. She checked Caroline’s ears, throat, and nose. Then she asked her to take deep breaths while she listened to her chest.

    It’s a sinus infection along with a helping of BRONCHITIS.

    I am mother of the year.

    I had no idea. And as the pediatrician gave us four different prescriptions to treat the various infections, I felt stellar for waiting so long to take her to the doctor. My only consolation is that she truly never acted sick. She has the stamina of a Clydesdale packed into 34 pounds.

    I left the doctor’s office with a purse full of prescriptions, Caroline, and my guilt. I headed towards HEB to drop off her prescriptions and perhaps to buy some chocolate ice cream. I was driving down the highway when I saw flashing lights coming up quickly behind me so being the law-abiding citizen I am, I changed lanes to let the policeman pass me by.

    He changed lanes with me.

    Oh.

    Superb.

    I pull over, gather my drivers’ license, proof of insurance (expired, naturally!), and my sob story about my sick child. The policeman comes to my window and I hand him my offerings with profuse apologies and explanations of bronchitis and guilt.

    Unfortunately for me, someone had amputated his heart.

    Tickets. Two tickets.

    One for speeding and one for expired insurance.

    But GOOD NEWS! he helpfully explained, all I have to do is show a current proof of insurance and that ticket will be dismissed.

    Hooray.

    Also, he informed me that next time I get pulled over on a highway I should pull over on the opposite side of the road from where I pulled over. It seems that I had put his life at risk, not to mention the life of my poor child with bronchitis. Thank you officer, you’ve been a huge help.

    We finally get to HEB to drop off our prescriptions and mill around the store for the 20 minutes it will take to get them filled. Caroline totally suckered me into buying her a stuffed dog wearing a Santa hat because “it’s the only thing that could make me feel better.” She named him Christmasy, although she could have named him My Mama is a Sucker.

    I finally returned to the pharmacy window to collect our medications. The pharmacist gave me instructions for each medication and as he handed me the oral abuterol said, “Now, this may cause her to be a little wired.”

    Caroline is always “a little wired”, adding the albuterol created an effect that made Richard Simmons handing out Deal-A-Meal cards look low key and sedate.

    The best part is she has to take it for five more days.

    Awesome.

    By the time evening finally came, I wasn’t feeling so great myself. My throat is sore, I feel congestion coming on, and the whole day just kind of wore me out, what with the guilt, the bronchitis, the albuterol, the speeding ticket, and the cost of a prescription of Omnicef.

    Then my phone rang and it was Gulley. It seems that she had made Triple Chocolate Chip Cookies because she had a feeling I was in need of a little pick me up. Ten minutes later she stood at my front door in her flannel pajamas, bearing a Ziploc bag filled with chocolatey goodness.

    And all of a sudden the world looked a little brighter.

    Never underestimate the power of a good cookie.

    Or a teaspoon of albuterol.

  • Geauxing to Alabama

    I’ve been so busy discussing the fun we had this weekend in Birmingham that I haven’t taken the time to bring up a question that has been weighing on my mind.

    What is up with people eating Chinese food at 8 a.m. in an airport?

    It’s as if people have lost their mind in the midst of their air travel plans.

    I landed at Houston Hobby airport at 8 a.m. Friday morning and, big shock, I was hungry. I needed some sustenance so I went in search of something that could pass for breakfast. And I’m not a breakfast snob.

    I have been known to eat a strawberry Go-tart, so obviously taste and nutrition weren’t huge factors in my decision-making process.

    I found a Pappasitos that was serving breakfast tacos and, although I was leary of eating eggs made in the airport and sausage that was cut in slices as opposed to browned and crumbled like God and Mexico intended, it wasn’t half bad.

    It was all bad.

    Oh I kid because I am a breakfast taco snob.

    Here’s what I found disturbing. The Pappasitos was located in a food court type location with other dining venues around it. There was a Pizza Hut, a McDonalds, and a Rising Phenix Hunan Cuisine.

    (I’m hoping the Rising Phenix makes someone else think of Stefano DiMera on Days of Our Lives…if not, nevermind…forget I said anything)

    All of them were open at 8 a.m. Friday morning.

    Okay, I understand McDonalds being open because they have the McGriddle and if you only eat one McGriddle every three years, it can actually taste decent. In fact, the morning after I had Caroline and hadn’t eaten for over 24 hours, P brought me a McGriddle (he is a sly, romantic dog) and that first bite was akin to a religious experience.

    But anyway, as I sat and ate my faux breakfast taco, I noticed that all around me people were eating plates of General Tso’s chicken from the Rising Phenix and slices of pepperoni pizza from Pizza Hut. What kind of sick and twisted world do we live in where people are eating Chinese cuisine and bad pizza at 8 a.m. IN AN AIRPORT?

    It’s as if they had no concept of taste or decency. It’s as if the airport had robbed them of their senses. It’s as if their tastebuds were confiscated along with the 4 oz. bottle of lotion they had in their carry-on luggage.

    Because, in case you were wondering, it’s only 3 oz. of liquid or less that is allowed in the carry-on luggage. Even one extra ounce could lead to an evil terrorist plot. Oh sure, it may look like Bath and Body Works Anti-Bacterial lotion, but it is a weapon of mass destruction.

    If you’re bacteria.

    I finished up my taco and resisted the urge to go throw up due to the overwhelming stench of General Tso and his evil chicken. I headed to my gate to wait to board my flight and as I arrived I saw numerous people milling around drinking adult beverages.

    What the???

    It’s 8 a.m.

    Anyone with a shred of decency knows that you don’t drink alcoholic beverages before 9:00 a.m….unless you mix it with tomato juice and a celery stick, in which case 8 a.m. is perfectly acceptable.

    But what I’m talking about are cans of Coors Light, Bud Light, and Miller Lite. Apparently if you’re drinking that early in the morning it better be a light beer because it’s a marathon, not a sprint, people.

    Then, I saw some folks walking up to the gate with a bright purple cooler as their carry-on and it finally dawned on me. I was getting on a plane headed to Alabama with all the LSU fans.

    Those LSU folks don’t mess around.

    Geaux Tigers with your bad Chinese food and your Miller Lite.

    I salute you and your intestinal fortitude, not to mention your football team’s astounding ability to win games in the last 30 seconds.

    We should all be so blessed.

  • Home again, home again

    Well, here I am. Somewhere in the air between Houston and San Antonio. And as much fun as I had this weekend, I’m ready to see my people.

    That’s the part of having kids that you don’t understand until you have one. It’s so nice to get away, what with all the uninterrupted sleep and the not eating at McDonald’s, but I miss Caroline like crazy and can’t wait to see her so that she can ignore me completely and act completely indifferent that I’m home after being gone for more than 48 hours.

    And since I wrote that part while I was still in the air, I can now report that when Caroline saw me she gave me a big hug and told me I smelled like a sleeping bag.

    I’m not sure what that means, but it doesn’t necessarily sound like a compliment.

    Motherhood is an endless joyride of happiness, guilt and wonder.

    So, how to sum up the weekend?

    It’s a weird thing to meet people you feel like you know, but yet have never met in real life.

    In reality, I knew more about Sophie and Shannon going into this weekend than I know about the mamas who drop their kids off at school with Caroline or that I see at the playground twice a week.

    I know about their kids, their husbands, their faith and the things that make them laugh. I know some of the things they’ve struggled with over the last couple of years and how they’ve dealt with it.

    Most importantly, I know that Sophie’s hair is a little blonder than she’d like and that Shannon is concerned about her hair being too short.

    But this weekend I got to know them in real life. We got to talk about how we feel about our families, our lives, and our faith in person.

    We got to hug and laugh and cry. We got to shop at Steinmart together. And Walmart.

    And y’all know what they say, you don’t really know a woman until you’ve shopped with her.

    Or maybe I just say that.

    But it’s true.

    And as much as I was ready to get home and hug my people, I’m sad that the weekend ended so soon.

    I owe a huge thank you to Casting Crowns and Provident Music for sending me to Birmingham this weekend. It was everything I thought it would be and more.

    I can’t say enough that if you get the chance to see Casting Crowns, Leeland, and John Waller in concert, you must go.

    And if you can’t go, buy their CD’s. It will be money well spent. They are just the real deal.

    The real, talented, humble deal.

    Much like the girls I met this weekend.

    Oh, and one last thing.

    P didn’t see me leave Friday morning because I left at the crack of the crack of dawn. When he picked me up at the airport this afternoon, and saw the size of the suitcase I took for the weekend, he was honestly speechless.

    Here is Caroline curled up in my suitcase after I unpacked tonight.

    I think P may have a point. A bag that you could pack your child in and still fit in a nice pair of boots is probably a little overkill for a weekend trip.

    I just need options.