Author: Big Mama

  • Look away, I’m hideous

    This morning I had to return to the real world and get back to work at the “bank”. Of course, in all honesty, the bank can be a pretty cushy job at times, so my morning actually consisted of eating breakfast at one of my favorite breakfast restaurants with my co-worker Dee, while we strategized about the new year.

    Dee’s daughter is the one who had the misfortune of babysitting Caroline the other night. Y’all can read about it here if you missed it. Anyway, Dee and I were catching up on what we did while on vacation and other miscellaneous things, when she says, “You know I’m so glad that K. babysat the other night because we’re going to the orthodontist this week and since she saw you she can’t quit talking about how horrible it would be to be an adult with braces. She just keeps telling me how terrible you look and can’t believe you had to get braces when you were old, so I’m hoping it will make her realize that she needs to do what the orthodontist tells her to do”.

    How many insults are in that statement?

    It was just the pick me up I needed to kick my New Year’s into gear.

    Really, like a ray of sunshine.

    In Dee’s defense, she had no clue what was coming out of her mouth and meant no harm. She falls into that category of people that talk so much that they’re bound to say something dumb on a fairly regular basis, so I honestly didn’t take it personally. In fact, I’ve been laughing about it all day.

    How nice to be able to serve as a cautionary orthodontia horror tale for pre-teen girls.

    And speaking of pre-teen girls, as I was leaving the restaurant I noticed a group of about five cute high school age girls eating a late breakfast on the patio of the restaurant. About that time a Suburban drove slowly through the parking lot and a woman rolled down her window and said “Hi Jessica!” to one of the girls and drove off.

    The girls all looked at each other and I overheard one say “Omigosh, was that your MOM?” and the other girl shook her head in disbelief as she reluctantly said, “Yes”. One of the girls said “Oh my mom is always doing stuff like that and I just want to DIE”. As I walked to my car they all continued to commiserate about how “like totally embarrassing” that was and “why would she do that?”

    Because like saying hi to your daughter is so wrong and can totally destroy their whole social image…much like adult orthodontia.

  • Just so you know

    For the people who stumbled upon this blog while doing google searches for “Big Mama wearing miniskirt” and “hydrogenated oils”, I think you’ll understand that due to the hydrogenated oil, there is no photo of Big Mama wearing a miniskirt.

    Thank you for your time. You’re always welcome here.

  • Hunting Royale *

    I had imagined that today I would write a post reflecting on my deep thoughts regarding the end of 2006 and the beginning of 2007. I would detail my goals, plans and hopes, but honestly…I’m just not feeling very reflective today. Maybe next week once my outdoor Christmas decorations finally join my indoor Christmas decorations in the attic, I’ll feel a little more coherent and be able to share something beautifully and succinctly (and really, isn’t that a goal in and of itself?)

    So, instead of a deep, meaningful post, y’all are going to hear about our big New Year’s Eve at the ranch. And I’m sure none of y’all imagined that your 2007 would be off to such a wonderful start!

    Caroline and I headed south about 9:00 yesterday morning and arrived at the ranch around 10:30. P came to meet us at the gate on a 4 wheeler and she insisted that she get out of the car and ride with Daddy. I didn’t see her again for about 3 hours.

    Apparently they rode all over the ranch and she has never had so much fun in her life. It incorporated everything she loves…speed, adrenaline rushes, and getting completely muddy. Which aren’t those things every girl’s dream?

    At some point, they finally made it back to the house and Caroline continued to run all over the place. She was thrilled to have 60 adults who all wanted to play with her, chase her and throw her up in the air. As I mentioned, none of them have kids so it’s a complete novelty to them to have her around.

    P decided he wanted to go hunting and so I had the brilliant idea that Caroline and I should also go sit in a deer blind. After all, she had been talking the whole time about hunting and wanting to see deer. So in one of the great ironies of all time, I took my daughter for her first “hunt” in a deer blind.

    We drove the four wheeler over to the blind while singing “Jingle Bells” at the top of our lungs (Caroline’s choice) and since for me hunting is all about convenience, I parked it all of about four feet from the blind. We climbed up into the blind and in my mind I was imagining a fun mother daughter experience involving looking at beautiful deer while eating animal crackers and watching the sun set over South Texas. You know, the stuff memories are made of.

    Here’s what happened. We got up in the blind and played musical chairs for about ten minutes which involved much loudness and banging around. Then, we had to see how the door of the blind opened and managed to open it just as a huge gust of wind caused it to slam into the railing creating yet another loud noise. And in case y’all don’t know, loud banging noises are not conducive to seeing deer.

    I have actually proved this theory because back when I used to go hunting and P would put me in a blind by myself, I would watch the deer for awhile and then start making noise to see how loud I could get before they went away. You do what you’ve got to do to pass the time in a deer blind.

    I digress.

    Anyway, in between all the banging noises and the loud talking, I notice two things. The first is that I can see deer skirting the perimeter of the field but staying well within the tree cover because we were broadcasting our presence to anyone within a 15 mile radius. The second thing I notice is that there is an odor coming from my daughter’s bottom. So I ask, “did you poop?” and she answers, “yes, I did”.

    I wasn’t sure that I was going to tell this part of the story, but I will serve a greater good and provide a public service by letting y’all know what to do in case you find yourselves in a deer blind, 15 feet off the ground with a child with poopy pants. Consider it a little New Year’s treat.

    I became much like MacGyver with my incredible skill and ingenuity. I tore off part of the bag that the animal crackers were in, used it to pick the poop (which was thankfully solid and I know that’s too much information but it’s pertinent to the story) out of her underwear and threw the poop out of the window of the blind.

    Oh yes I did.

    Needless to say that between the noise and the flying human excrement, we had created a less than ideal hunting situation and did not see one single deer.

    We headed back to the house on our four wheeler, waited for P to get back from his hunt, packed up our stuff and headed home.

    Caroline was asleep before we even hit the highway.

    And we all were home in our beds by 10:30 last night. That’s the stuff memories are made of.

    Happy 2007!

    *Please note that this is a play on the name of the latest James Bond movie because I tried desperately to come up with something that would reflect the year now being “007” and sadly, it’s the best I could do.

  • Old acquaintance would definitely be forgot if I don’t get my sleep

    I am fairly sure that this will be my last post of the year, unless something unbelieveably exciting happens, and as I think about the odds of that, I feel more than sure that this is it for 2006. I’d like to go out with a bang, but the odds for that aren’t looking great either.

    P and I have some good friends that have a gorgeous ranch down in South Texas. This is where P spends most of his weekends during hunting season and also where he killed the elk that has brought us hundreds of pounds in meat. Many years ago, it became New Year’s tradition to spend New Year’s Eve at the ranch.

    The guys would build a big bonfire and we’d all cook dinner, shoot off fireworks and just generally hang out. It was always a lot of fun and as the years have gone by the majority of the once single guys have acquired wives or at least significant others so the group has definitely grown in size. In fact, I think that around sixty people are expected this year.

    Part of this whole New Year’s experience includes staying up most of the night which in my pre-child days was great because I’d just sleep the next day. Now…not so much.

    The rest of the group doesn’t understand this because they haven’t yet had children. For them, sleep isn’t a premium luxury item, it’s just a day to day occurrence that they can do WHENEVER they want. Ahh, what sweet kids.

    I find some consolation in the fact that years from now, P and I will be the ones doing the sleeping while they will all be in the throes of the years of sleeplessness, otherwise known as it’s a good thing my kid is so cute because this is hell.

    Anyway, Friday night P and I went down to the ranch while Caroline spent the night with Mimi and Bops. The plan was that I would spend the night, leave the next morning and then come back with Caroline on New Year’s Eve so that we could spend the day together and all drive back later that night after dinner.

    We left for the ranch about 1:00 Friday afternoon. We had a great time. We hung out with friends, we hunted while sitting in a luxurious deer blind complete with padded, executive style chairs and M&M’s, and then headed back to the house for a great fajita dinner. Good times.

    At some point, however, it began to dawn on me that this crew was planning on staying up until all hours because none of them had to drive home and pick up a toddler the next day and then spend the rest of the day entertaining that toddler. And in a move that confirmed that I am, in fact, so far removed from being the life of the party at this stage of my life, I asked P what he thought about me driving home so that I could sleep in my own bed.

    Keep in mind that calling my name was not only my own bed, but a silent house that wouldn’t have anyone calling out for me in the wee hours.

    He agreed that it was probably a good idea because he knows that I value sleep above all else and therefore he values it for me because it makes his life easier. I bid everyone a fond farewell and explained I was going home to get a good night’s sleep.

    And also take some Metamucil and clean my dentures.

    I arrived home safe and sound, put on my favorite pajamas, and climbed into my fabulously, warm bed complete with clean sheets. And then, as if on cue, it started to rain outside.

    I’m telling y’all it was pretty close to my idea of what heaven must be like.

    So, this morning Caroline and I are headed back down there to spend New Year’s Eve, but I promise that we’ll all be home sound asleep in our own beds when the New Year actually comes in.

    Speaking of the New Year, I think my only resolution (since I don’t really make resolutions) is to try to eat better and factoring in how I’ve been eating throughout the holidays, it should be pretty easy seeing as how I can’t possibly eat worse.

    I’ll just show restraint and say things like “Oh no, please just six sugar cookies with a small side of toffee for me. I’m eating healthier in 2007.”

    I wish y’all a blessed 2007 full of great things. Thanks for reading and for all of your wonderful comments. I’ve loved getting to know so many of y’all during 2006.

    Happy New Year!

  • The mother of all tantrums

    Yesterday I mentioned that Caroline had spent the previous evening outsmarting some babysitters, which resulted in her not going to bed until after 9:30. Any of y’all without kids might think that means she slept late the next morning to make up for the sleep deficit…but you would be wrong.

    P and I always know if it’s going to be a good day or a bad day by the way Caroline wakes up to greet the morning. On a good day, we wake to the sweet sounds of her talking to her menagerie of stuffed animals as she lies contentedly in bed. On a bad day, we wake to the whining, nails on a chalkboard sound of “Mama, Mama, MAMA!!!”. And when P goes in to get her, she tells him to just go away and leave her alone. It’s a lovely way to start the day.

    So, at 6:30 yesterday morning when we woke to the sounds of a bad day gearing up in the next room, we were understandably thrilled.

    Actually, for the most part, the day passed without incident. We had some friends over to play in the morning and only had to have a timeout once. Nobody ever said sharing the Cozy Coupe was easy.

    Then, after a naptime which consisted of no nap because of her incredible ability to fight sleep at all costs, she went out to play in the backyard while P was working out there. Knowing that I needed to go to the store, he came in and told me that she was perfectly content playing so if I needed to slip off to the store to go ahead and go.

    It took me all of two seconds to grab my keys and race to the car. I was so heady with excitement that I even decided to go to the more upscale, gourmet market located near our house instead of our average HEB. I love going to this market because they have everything you can imagine and it comforts me to know that if I ever decide I’m in need of whole, smoked white fish or exotic cheeses or one hundred and fifty different kinds of olives, that I can run around the corner and buy them. So, I went there even though the most exotic thing on my list was green beans.

    I shopped leisurely without dispensing Chex Mix or donuts. I relished my time in the check out line knowing that I wouldn’t have to deal with my nemesis, that smug Buddy Buck. It was great.

    Until…

    I was walking out to the car when my cell phone rang. It was P calling to report that Caroline had discovered that I had gone to the store without her and flew into such a screaming fit that it seems she gave herself a bloody nose. Now normally, she couldn’t have cared less about missing a trip to the store if it meant that she was busy helping P do something, but in her sleep deprived, cranky, inconsolable state she came undone.

    He said he carried her into the house because he was afraid the neighbors would think something really serious was happening because of all the screaming with the screams of the screaming, not to mention that she was totally freaking the dogs out, and put her in her timeout chair in her room. He told her that she needed to sit there until she could calm down and she just kept telling him to “Leave me alone”, so he did.

    He said not even two minutes later it got quiet…too quiet. He walked into her room and this is what he discovered.

    Sound asleep.

    Now that’s what I call tired.

    Bless her little fit throwing heart.

  • Who’s sitting who?

    A few days ago, P and I were invited to a cookout at a friend’s house and then to go see Robert Earl Keen at a local dancehall. We gladly accepted the invitation to the cookout but declined the opportunity to go see Robert Earl because we are old combined with the fact that I’ve developed a mid-life allergy to cigarette smoke which may also be known as being sober in a bar and realizing how much smoke is actually in the air.

    In addition to this compelling reason to not go see the concert, add the fact that someone was stabbed in this very bar within the last month.

    So, last night we went attended the cookout portion of the evening. Now y’all may be wondering where Caroline was…and even if you’re not, I’m going to tell you anyway.

    My friend that I work with has a 12 year old daughter who has been dying to babysit Caroline. She has been over here to visit a few times and Caroline loves her, but since we have Mimi and Bops living less than two miles away and the aforementioned fact that we are old and don’t get out much, we are rarely in need of a babysitter.

    Anyway, I decided that since it was going to be a pretty short evening and we were going to be about a mile from home, we would let this girl babysit. Her mom brought her over and she had a little friend (and as I write “little friend”, I realize it confirms my old status because my mother used to always refer to us inviting a “little friend” somewhere and “little” obviously means young, not miniature) with her to help her out. Caroline was already bathed, in her pajamas, and pizza was on the way for all the girls to eat for dinner.

    We left them playing with blocks and gave instructions to put Caroline to bed in about an hour because I am a naive fool.

    Two hours later, we returned home to find Caroline still up and pretty much running the entire operation. She had convinced them that she couldn’t go to sleep unless they were in her room with her and also told them that she doesn’t have to ever brush her teeth…which is true.

    Oh, I’m kidding. We brush her teeth at least twice a week.

    I don’t know who was happier to see us, Caroline or those poor girls. As soon as I hit the door, I took charge of the situation and began the process of getting teeth brushed and Caroline into bed. The girls went into the kitchen to devour the pizza they hadn’t been able to eat because “Caroline didn’t really want us to eat”. Have mercy.

    I don’t think they’re going to be begging to babysit again anytime soon.

    Can’t say I blame them.