Author: Big Mama

  • Chevy is still king of the road

    The other day I found myself sitting in the waiting room of a doctor’s office. I was the only person in the waiting room except for a middle aged woman, without a tooth in her head, sitting on her electric cart. She had no problem with the fact that she was parked right in front of the door to the office, thereby blocking all entrance and exit routes.

    I sat there for about ten minutes, watching various people come into the office and figure out how to manuever around the cart lady, while she pretended to be completely oblivious to everyone around her.

    A few minutes later, a couple walked in wearing matching black and red Chevrolet jackets. The matching jackets, while classy, weren’t the most notable thing about them. The thing I noticed, as they sat down across from me, is that while they both had facial hair, the female member of the relationship had a mustache that was much thicker and robust than the male member of the relationship.

    Now, I’m not judging. I, too, have my own personal ongoing battle with facial hair because it is the curse of my Italian heritage, which is why I invest in some quality hair removing products and would be willing to forgo Caroline’s college education to pay for some laser hair removal treatments. All I’m saying is this lady would be well served to spend less on the Chevrolet jacket and more on a tube of Surgi-cream hair remover.

    Anyway, I guess while I was staring at her mustache, her boyfriend must have thought I was wanting to engage in some conversation. He looked at me and discreetly motioned toward the electric cart with his head and said in a voice that could have been heard throughout the building, “The problem with them carts is people try to drive ’em on the road like they’re REAL CARS”.

    Well, thank you for that insight, sir. Yes, that would be a problem if I had ever actually seen anyone driving an electric cart down the road in the major metropolitan area in which we live.

    I didn’t say that, however, because I felt like since he was wearing an official Chevrolet jacket and all, he might have more on the road experience than me. He might have daily encounters with all of those electric cart drivers that are apparently polluting the highway. So, I just nodded and smiled as if to say “Yes, thank you for speaking out against this roadway travesty” as I climbed over the front of the lady’s electric cart on my way in to see the doctor.

  • Other than raindrops on roses, here are a few of my favorite things

    All day long, I’ve thought about what I could post that would perfectly capture the essence of Valentines Day. I could talk about P and the fact that for years he had no idea that Valentines was a real date on the calendar, and thought it was just the second Tuesday in February.
    Have I ever mentioned that he was a real ladies’ man before he met me? Let’s just say that I carved that diamond out of some rough terrain.

    I could talk about Caroline and the fact that I spent all weekend making Valentines cards for her to take to school. I had these grand visions that it would be a fun mother/daughter project but I forgot two important factors.

    1. I have OCD. I admit it. I claim it. I own it. Let me tell y’all that OCD and a 3 year old with a huge bottle of glitter is just a recipe for a nervous breakdown that could require vast amounts of medication.

    2. Caroline has the attention span of a scared housecat. Once she realized I wasn’t going to let her dump an entire bottle of glitter on my kitchen floor, she was pretty much over the entire Valentine making process. She preferred to just sit and tell me how to do it like I was her own personal craft servant. Think Martha Stewart and those poor saps she gets on her show so that she can show her superiority at making tissue paper flowers.

    However, since we were halfway done with our cards, I had to press on because I couldn’t give half the class homemade Valentines and the other half of the class Dora the Explorer store bought cards. If any of her classmates end up in therapy it will be their parents’ fault, not because Caroline didn’t make them a special, handmade Valentine when they were three.

    Neurotic is the word y’all are looking for.

    Anyway, this afternoon I went to our nearest Hallmark store to buy cards for P and Caroline. It was so crowded that I just knew they must be giving away free chocolate, but they weren’t. No free chocolate; just cards and balloons and stuffed animals that were available for overpriced purchase.

    Somewhere I guarantee that Mr. Hallmark is counting his money and thanking God that the American public completely bought in to this marketing celebration o’ love. I honestly almost bought a cute Valentine gift bag today because it was only $1.99 instead of $3.99 with the purchase of a $10.00 Loveable, Huggable animal. Doesn’t it totally make sense to spend that $10.00 to get $2.00 off?

    Yes, I thought so.

    So, in celebration of Valentines Day, here are some things that I love, not in order of importance or priority.

    1. Sour Patch Kids. They are the perfect mix of sour and sweet and I still eat them even though my orthodontist, Dr. Kevorkian, would have a fit if he knew. I am a total orthodontia rebel.

    2. Cold, rainy days when we have nowhere to be but home and can stay in our pajamas all day.

    3. The sound of P’s truck pulling into the driveway because I know he’s home. And for me, home isn’t quite as nice without him here.

    4. Diet Coke with Lime because before the Coke people got together with the Lime people, I couldn’t stand the taste of Diet Coke. Now, I can drink three Cokes a day with no guilt.

    5. My friends. They are funny, they are supportive, they are the best and if need be will pick me up in their Trailblazer.

    6. Reruns of Friends because they always make me laugh and different episodes always remind me of things that were going on in my life when they originally aired. Specifically, I have many memories of standing in front of a mirror trying to get my hair to look just like Rachel’s because good hair is the key to a better life.

    7. Quality movies that make me laugh and cry like Talladega Nights: The Legend of Ricky Bobby.

    8. Chocolate in just about any form but specifically, Ghiradelli Double Chocolate Brownies. A pan of them will help solve just about any crisis. Two pans? Could bring peace to the Middle East.

    9. The way Caroline looks when she’s sleeping with her little hand tucked under her chin. It’s like I’m seeing an angel straight from heaven. To quote Holly Hunter in Raising Arizona, “I just love that baby.

    10. Watching P and Caroline together because it makes me love both of them that much more.

    Happy Valentines Day. I hope y’all are spending it enjoying the things that you love.

  • And they have fried apple pies!

    I mentioned a few days ago (or weeks ago, I can’t remember and I won’t pretend like I do) that Caroline’s social schedule is increasingly busy. I mean, it is just one party after another here. In fact, we have been to so many parties in recent weeks that Caroline has started asking for party favors whenever we leave anyones’ home. And yes, we’re working on that, but it’s hard for a girl to leave any kind of social gathering without a bag full of plastic clown yo-yos, fake tattoos, and one of those wooden paddles with the ball attached.

    The thing about the parties around here is, for the most part, they are a study in excess. I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, and I am all about a good party, but it’s just a matter of time before some of these parents start hiring Beyonce to sing Happy Birthday to the birthday boy or girl.

    Now, don’t get me wrong, I would actually crash a child’s party to hear Beyonce sing (especially if she’d sing something like ‘Diaperlicious’ for the preschool set), but my point is that the whole party thing can start to feel like one more leg of the relay in the great race to be the BEST Mommy Ever.

    This past Friday, Gulley had a birthday party for her youngest son Will, and in a stroke of pure, unmitigated genius, she went old school and had the party at McDonalds. Can I tell y’all that it was the best birthday party we have been to all year? I know Gulley won’t mind me telling y’all that the whole thing including Happy Meal lunches for ten kids, lunch for the Mamas, the cake WITH ice cream, AND the invitations cost $60.00.

    $60.00. SIXTY DOLLARS.

    I’ve been to parties where they paid more than that for just the cupcakes and the kids didn’t even get to wear birthday hats with Grimace on them. Seriously, did y’all know that Grimace still exists? He does, y’all. He does.

    Caroline thoroughly enjoyed herself. She sat and ate her Happy Meal while occasionally stopping between bites of her cheeseburger to drink a little ketchup out of the paper container. At one point, I told Gulley to look at Caroline compared to her little friend Sadie sitting next to her.

    Sadie was sitting, delicately eating her chicken nuggets, blonde hair up in a neat ponytail with her Grimace crown perfectly balanced on her head and she’d stop from time to time to wipe a small dab of mustard off her lips. Meanwhile, Caroline was hopping up and down in her seat with her little pigtails plastered to her head under the Grimace crown that sat askew on her head while she ate her cheeseburger, drank her ketchup and periodically opened her mouth full of food really wide to yell “CHEESEBURGER!!!” as her picture was being taken.

    She is a delicate, delicate soul.

    My point is (yes, I have a point!) the kids loved this party and not one of them complained that the cast of Cirque de Soleil didn’t show up to spell out the birthday boy’s name by contorting their bodies or that the centerpieces weren’t made entirely of gourmet lollipops and peonies.

    In fact, I have a strong feeling that Caroline may be celebrating her 4th birthday with Ronald and Grimace because her birthday is in August and that $60.00?

    Includes air conditioning.

  • De doo doo doo, de da da da is all I have to say to you

    I’m not a huge fan of award shows. It seems like every year there are more and more award shows and honestly, it’s hard for me to keep up with all of them. The best part of any of these shows is usually the red carpet, because I like to mock and/or admire the various wardrobe selections. But other than the fashion, the shows usually just serve as a sad reminder that I have no idea who Gnarls Barkley is and apparently, I should.

    Last night, however, I excitedly turned on the Grammys because I was dying to see the big Police reunion. Ever since hearing Scrantonicity sing “Roxanne” on The Office this past week, I have missed the Police more than I already did.

    If I had a soundtrack to my junior high years, a good portion would contain songs like Every Breath You Take, Don’t Stand So Close To Me, and Every Little Thing She Does is Magic. I loved the Police and later, loved Sting.

    I wore out my cassette of Dream of the Blue Turtles listening to Fortress Around Your Heart. It was the perfect anthem for my 8th grade angst as I dreamed about the sophomore boy that I so desperately wanted to call and ask me to meet him at the mall. I would pop that cassette into my York stereo, fast forward to that song and lie on my bed as I cried while singing “and if I built this fortress around your heart, encircled you with trenches and barbed wire…”. I fancied myself quite the intellectual for crying to Sting instead of say, El Debarge.

    I may have been a little dramatic.

    I have to say that I was slightly disturbed to see Sting wearing a vest with no shirt under it because in college I had a professor that taught Intercultural Communications that often sported that same look, but with less physique and much, much more chest hair. It brought back some bad memories. Nevertheless, I loved seeing the Police back together again, shirt or no shirt.

    P and I ended up watching the entire show together, which is some kind of marital record for us, because P, as a general rule, doesn’t watch shows that don’t involve some type of weaponry. And since we were watching together, he got to hear all the scoop about Cameron and Justin breaking up and how Justin is now supposedly dating Jessica Biel. He remarked that Justin could probably get any girl he wanted and I said “Not me, I’d never leave you for Justin. I might leave you for Emmitt Smith, but not Justin”. Don’t judge me, y’all know Emmitt can dance.

    We also agreed that since the Dixie Chicks won so many awards, that our good friends Charlie and Emily may go ahead and join the Country Club this summer, so we might not be seeing them at the pool, which is really a shame because I’d love to sit down and chat if for no other reason than to find out who colored Natalie’s hair because it looked fabulous.

    The best line of the night goes to P, who asked me if Carrie Underwood was a Christian since she sings that song Jesus, Take the Wheel. I told him I had read an interview with her where she dodged the question and he said “Well, then why would she sing that song?” and I said, “I guess she just liked it”. He replied, “Maybe when she first saw it she thought it was about a Hispanic chaffeur named Jesus”.

    And that’s why I’d really never leave him for Emmitt.

  • Take time to smell the cucumbers

    This morning after church, I decided to go ahead and get the beating that is going to the grocery store out of the way. We were running low on the majority of essential items, including milk and paper plates. The milk, I personally could do without, but let’s just say that disposable dishware is crucial to my housekeeping regimen, and I’m using the words housekeeping and regimen lightly.

    I changed into my Mama uniform of black yoga pants and running shoes, but left Caroline in her cute Valentines’ dress that she wore to church, that way other shoppers could point and talk about that sad woman who just lives vicariously through dressing up her child. I just can’t go to HEB in high heels, it goes against every law of nature and you’re just asking to wipe out on some kid’s spilled grape juice. Not that it’s ever happened to me but you know…it could. And then I’d just be that Mama who’s dressed really cute, but is limping through the store with a big, wet spot on the back of her pants.

    Hypothetically speaking, that would just be embarrassing.

    Anyway, before we left the house, I told Caroline to go potty. She asked (as she always does), “Why?”. I told her, “Because I don’t want to get to HEB and have to take you to the bathroom there” and she replied, “But Mama, I love the bathroom there because it smells like cucumbers”.

    So obviously, something is horribly wrong with her olfactory sensing abilities because while the HEB bathroom smells like many things I can think of, cucumbers would not make the list.

    We got to the store and she immediately begins scanning the crowd for Dwayne, the manager. She knows that Dwayne is the key to mass quantities of Buddy Bucks and therefore also the key to Mama losing her mind in HEB. It was a sad day when she realized that Dwayne wasn’t there to shower her with Buddy Buck goodness.

    Fortunately all was not lost because she did get to make a trip to the bathroom and smell the cucumbers.

  • The solid rock

    One of my favorite parts of the Bible is when Joshua is about to lead the Israelites into the Promised Land. In the first chapter of Joshua, God tells him three different times to “Be strong and courageous”. Whenever I am feeling less than strong and courageous (which is more often than I like to admit), I go and read Joshua 1:9, “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”

    Sure enough, God was with the Israelites and they crossed into the Promised Land. After they got there God told Joshua to choose twelve men from each tribe and have them each take a stone and place it as a memorial to the people of Israel to remind them of what God had done for them.

    “In the future, when your children ask you, ‘What do these stones mean?’,
    tell them that the flow of the Jordan was cut off before the ark of the convenant of the Lord.
    When it crossed the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off.
    These stones are to be a memorial to the people of Israel forever.”
    Joshua 4: 6-7

    When I am facing a challenge or needing to be reminded of how faithful God is, I remember this passage and think about the “stones” in my life. We all have them. Those times that looked so hopeless and then God took care of us in ways that we couldn’t have imagined. That’s what He does, because He is…you know, God and all.

    So, while technically I am still on a bloggy break, I thought I would share these thoughts along with two links that tell about two of my personal memorial stones.
    Stone #1
    Stone #2