Another day

Before I talk about the weekend, I would like to give a big thank you to P for understanding there was absolutely no way I could cook last night given that it was 111 degrees outside. The only reason anyone would want to heat up the oven under those circumstances would be if they just needed to stick their head in it to get a break from the real heat. Please join me in giving P a slow handclap like they do in the movies at really dramatic moments.

Caroline rode with me to pick up Mexican food from our favorite Mexican place. We’d gotten our food and were headed back home when we saw flashing police lights ahead and saw a car being pulled over. She whispered, “Just act casual, Mama. Just act casual.” It was as if we’d just held up a bank as opposed to picking up some chips and guacamole.

On Friday morning I woke Caroline up for school and she was a little groggy. I reminded her it was Friday and the beginning of the weekend. She replied, “OH NO! I’M SAD! I LOVE SCHOOL!” So we sent her out for DNA testing and should get the results back in 2-3 weeks.

In reality, I’m thrilled she is so pleased with school this year. It makes life easier for so many reasons. After school on Friday she and P left to go to the ranch and hunt pigs. Shockingly, I chose to stay home and drink wine with Gulley instead of stomping through a bunch of cactus in 110 degree heat.

When they arrived home around midnight, she was thrilled to report that she killed two pigs with one shot. That’s an impressive feat for anyone and pretty much solidified that P knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he has the coolest daughter ever.

(I cropped the pigs out of this picture. Consider that an early Christmas gift.)

You know what I did on Friday nights when I was a third grader? I have no idea. But I guarantee it didn’t involve killing two pigs with one shot. Chances are good it involved trying out new braids on my Beauty Secrets Barbie.

We all slept in on Saturday morning and then went over to Gulley’s to watch The Pioneer Woman’s new cooking show on Food Network. Which led me to have an intense craving for chicken fried steak that won’t go away. And that’s a shame since I’m in a season of forgoing fatty foods due to my metabolism breaking up with me right before my 40th birthday.

Saturday night we had some friends come over that we hadn’t seen in forever. Mainly because they had triplets two years ago and we were afraid it might be contagious. Oh I kid. Life just gets busy and we were always going in two different directions. But it was so good to catch up on life and they even brought over one of the best chocolate cakes I’ve ever eaten. EVER.

AND they left it with us because they said they’re both on a diet. So we each ate one more piece yesterday and then threw it in the trash, THE OUTSIDE TRASH, lest we be tempted to dig it back out later on. Don’t judge. It happens.

Sunday morning we went to church where I almost passed out from heat exhaustion after standing outside trying to sign women up for fall Bible study. When we finally walked through the door I announced I wouldn’t be leaving the air-conditioning for the rest of the day even though Caroline was begging me to take her to Forever 21 because some girl in her class bought an owl necklace there that has a clock built into the owl’s stomach. FANCY.

But since I am a mean mom prone to heat exhaustion and crowd-driven panic attacks, I told her the necklace would have to wait for another day. So we settled in and had a movie marathon. One of us may have dozed off for thirty minutes or two hours.

Which was just as well because I was told I wasn’t allowed to sing along to The Little Mermaid. And how am I supposed to avoid that temptation unless I’m asleep?

So that was our weekend. Next time I’ll make something up if I can’t come up with anything better than this.

You’re welcome.

Yesterday afternoon I was talking on the phone to Gulley. We were just about to hang up when my phone cut me off and that’s when I noticed it had the spinning circle of death on the screen. Which really came as no surprise considering that my two-year-old iPhone has gotten to the point where it holds a charge for all of thirty minutes.

So I plugged it into the wall to charge, but when I came back thirty minutes later it still had the spinning circle thing. I tried to turn it off and it didn’t work. I hooked it up to my computer. Nothing.

This is a little embarrassing to admit but I began to wonder how long I was going to be without my phone. I felt like I’d just lost something very important like my favorite pair of jeans or one of my arms. And I thought about how these things never happened back in the day when phones were attached to a wall and had that twisty cord that you could twirl around and around and around your finger while you talked to that cute boy from Pre-Algebra who finally called you.

I had no idea what to do now that all my communication with the outside world had been cut off and so I figured I’d call Gulley to ask her how to fix my phone. But first I had to plug in our home phone. We unplugged it about a month ago because no one ever calls us on our home phone except solicitors or “sailors” as Caroline calls them since they are just trying to “sail” you something. (No, I don’t have a strong accent. Why do you ask?)

Anyway, I wasn’t going to call Gulley because she has some sort of expertise in the field of iPhones. In fact, she carried a plain old flip phone until some time last year when it finally just broke in two pieces. It’s just my natural response to call Gulley anytime any sort of crisis arises. And while she is wonderful at giving all sorts of life advice on many subjects, she was no help at all in this situation. Although she did ask her husband and he suggested I take out my SIM card and put it back in.

The only problem is that solution made the assumption I know how to take out the SIM card in the first place.

I looked for some place to take out a battery or something and was about to resort to my standard, highly technical method of fixing things and just bang it really hard on the countertop. And, if that didn’t work, maybe throw it through the window.

Because all I knew is that there was no way I was going to walk into the Apple store and go up to the Genius Bar with my sad little generation ANCIENT iPhone 3. Oh the mockery and sneering that would ensue. And that would just be from my fellow customers.

I’m still not over the humiliation of going into the AT&T store last spring to buy a new case for my phone and being told in a stage whisper, “We keep the cases for the iPhone 3s in the back.” They obviously did not want to taint their showroom with any type of antiquated cases from 2010.

Ultimately, I recalled that Gulley suggested I might want to check the Google and see if I could find a help site. So I googled “Walking in shame that I still have an iPhone 3 and now it won’t turn off or die. Help me.”

And this is why the internet is such a handy, modern device. I immediately found a message board where various folks were mocking some poor soul who stored a lot of photos on his iPhone only to have it die and lose all his pictures, but in the midst of all that mockery I saw that someone suggested he put his phone in recovery mode by pressing the HOME button and POWER button simultaneously and holding them for fifteen seconds.

I tried it. And TA-DA it worked.

I realize this is probably the most uninteresting thing you’ve read in a long time, but it’s the most interesting thing that happened to me yesterday so imagine how I feel.

And now I’m off to play Words with Friends because you don’t know what you’ve got until you think it might be gone.

Goodbye.

Okay, so today is a different kind of post. And y’all know I rarely promote anything here unless it’s something I feel strongly about. Which explains Fashion Friday because I feel strongly about cute tops and jeans that fit well and a good wedge heel. Amen.

Several years ago someone told me about a blog called Bring the Rain written by Angie Smith. At the time I’d never heard of Angie, but I read a post she’d written called The Past and The Pitcher and thought it was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever read. I was hooked.

Over time we’ve exchanged emails and I’ve walked her through some questions she had regarding tying scarves and then I finally got to spend some time with her in person this past June and, oh my word y’all, she is one of my favorite people ever. In fact, if I ever move to Nashville (which will never happen because P won’t leave Texas EVER.) Angie would be one of the reasons why.

Some may call that stalking. I prefer to use the term friendship.

I just think the world of her as a writer, a mother, a friend, and someone who makes me laugh until I hyperventilate. So I’d be excited about her new book no matter what the subject. However, the title of her new book is What Women Fear: Walking in Faith That Transforms and I don’t know about you but I tend to struggle with the fear.

In fact, I can go to a place of fear in sixteen seconds. It’s true. How else do you explain that I’ve diagnosed myself with over eighteen fatal illnesses courtesy of WebMd over the last four months? By the way, P has forbidden me from googling any more medical symptoms. There’s plenty of crazy here already thank you.

On Saturday I had lunch with a friend. She told me she hadn’t slept well the night before because she’d watched a movie that freaked her out and she spent the rest of the night envisioning all these terrible scenarios that could happen. And it really hit me, I think all women struggle with fear.

(If you don’t, please email me and tell me what it feels like.)

And that’s why I adore Angie’s book. It put into words so many of the things I struggle with and then discusses how to deal with those fears in an effective way. Because apparently getting on Google is not the answer.

Here’s an excerpt from the book description:

“Rather than suggesting that those who truly love the Lord would never fear, Angie blends her own experiences with those of men and women from throughout Scripture to help us start dealing more effectively with these true, human emotions. Whether it’s a constant ‘What if?’, a nagging fear of abandonment or betrayal, fear of your own or someone else’s death, fear of trusting God’s plan, or even the fear that God’s existence is a lie, Angie will walk you through stories of others who have simultaneously loved God and struggled with fear.”

Doesn’t that make you want to read this book? Then I have some GOOD NEWS. It officially releases on September 1, but here’s how you can pre-order a copy for 50% off today.

Barnes and Noble has really supported Angie both for I Will Carry You as well as with What Women Fear and are doing an exciting one day online pre-sale today, Monday, August 22. If you pre-order a copy today at Barnesandnoble.com/WhatWomenFear you will get 50% off, so the book is only $7.49. In addition, if you order the book today at Barnes and Noble online, email your order confirmation to [email protected] to be entered to win one of two prize packs of 10 books from B&H Women as well as a $25 Barnes and Noble gift card.

I also thought you might like to watch this video promo.

Okay, what are you waiting for? Go pre-order your copy for 50% off. That’s only $7.49.

And you can’t even get two gallons of gas for that price.

Yesterday morning I woke up and cooked a semi-nutritious breakfast for Caroline and her friends. After all, I have more pride than to let those girls go home and tell their mothers about their delicious breakfast of chocolate Pop-tarts. So I scrambled eggs and cooked sausage just like I was Betty Draper. Except Betty Draper wouldn’t be caught dead in pink plaid pajama pants and an old gray t-shirt that reads “Texas A&M Football ’94”.

Which is really her loss.

And kind of reminds me that I haven’t mentioned the whole A&M to the SEC thing over the last few days. I guarantee it’s not because it hasn’t been on my mind. I spent the better part of my weekend doing extensive research about the whole thing and it just about put me in the bed on Sunday when the SEC came out and announced they were happy with their existing twelve teams.
But then I learned that may all be a part of what is known as FANCY legal maneuvering to avoid a lawsuit. Not to mention that A&M’s Board of Regents gave our president, Dr. “Bowtie” Loftin authority to make any necessary decisions regarding athletic conference realignment. Ultimately the whole thing still looks pretty good at this point. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from leaving comments about your brother’s friend’s uncle who knows “someone” in the legislature or the Big XII or lives next door to Dan Beebe who knows it will never happen. That kind of speculation is the kind of thing that will leave me in a tailspin for the rest of the day. It leads me down a path that is obsessive at best and unhealthy at worst.

Thank you.

Honestly, I wasn’t even going to bring any of that up. Because I have more important matters to discuss. I spent most of yesterday cleaning out my desk drawer, the playroom, Caroline’s bathroom and our laundry room. I still have miles to go but it was a start and it led to four full trash bags of things being hauled out of our house. Hallelujah and amen.

But it was in the midst of this clean out that I discovered something going on under my own roof that I was unaware of. I’m usually a big believer in not airing dirty laundry in a public forum, but I feel like we need some help.

Barbie was spotted naked planking in our bathroom.

At first I thought it was just a one time thing, but then I found her friend doing the same thing on the American Girl doll’s beauty shop chair.

Needless to say, I’m not sure the American Girl dolls are going to get over it. They were shocked and horrified. But one confided to me that she’d always suspected Barbie might be a bit fast. Especially since she got that Hot Tub Party Bus last Christmas along with those faux leather pants.

Nothing good ever comes of faux leather pants.

The last straw was late yesterday afternoon when I walked in to witness this spectacle.

Oh Barbie.

She has taken her friends down with her. Even the brunette. I’m all for getting on board a trend, but I think this has gone to far.

I feel like there needs to be some sort of intervention. We need to let her know that this kind of thing might fly in some playrooms, but not at our house.

Or it might just be time to send Barbie and her friends packing on their Hot Tub Party Bus.

Yesterday I spent our fourteenth anniversary just like I imagined I would when I wore that beautiful white dress and pledged my life to the man I loved; taking three little girls roller-skating and then back to my house for a sleep over.

I asked P if he wanted to go with us and even promised that we could couple skate in honor of our special day, but he turned me down flat. I’m not sure all the reasons why, however, I have my suspicions that he isn’t sure if he can still skate backwards. And everyone knows all the cool boys could do the backwards skate during couple skate as opposed to just the side by side hand-holding version.

Or maybe he just wanted to spend a relaxing afternoon at home instead of careening around a rink on wheels while listening to Ke$ha sing inappropriate songs. Either way, I took the girls and even roller-skated with them because I laugh in the face of easy ways to potentially spend time in the ER.

Please note that two of the three rocked a side ponytail.

That’s a lot of look for the roller rink.

Truthfully we’re going to go out later this week and celebrate. We just postponed things because it worked out better schedule-wise for everyone. Plus, it’s not like we have to celebrate on the EXACT day since we’re going to be together forever. AND EVER.

While we were at the skating rink there was an injury that required them to clear the floor. I couldn’t see exactly what happened, but there was a woman down on the far side of the rink and it appeared she’d incurred some sort of leg injury. Ultimately they had to bring out one of those rolling ergonomic desk chairs to roll her off the rink. And all I could think was Dear Jesus, I will be eternally grateful to you that it wasn’t me being rolled off the rink in front of God and everybody on a desk chair.

Can you imagine?

“How was your day, dear?”

“Well, I had to be rolled off the roller-skating rink in a desk chair in front of the PTO president before making a trip to the ER to get my leg put in a cast.”

Needless to say, I did not skate with the same enthusiasm I’d had prior to that whole scene playing out. Even when they played Car Wash by Rose Royce and that song always makes me want to make wax on/wax off hand motions.

After the girls and I were sufficiently worn out from all the skating we drove to Sonic in search of cold drinks. We waited in the drive-through line until it was time to place our order.

“We’ll have two medium cherry-limeades, a Route 44 Diet coke and a lemon-berry slush.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Our ice machine isn’t working.”

“What?”

“Our ice machine isn’t working.”

“Goodbye.”

The ice machine at Sonic wasn’t working. I’m still experiencing some shock and disbelief over the whole thing. No ice at Sonic is like Sonny without Cher. Which, technically, ended up happening in the late 70’s but everyone knows it was never the same after that. Well, except for people born in the 80s and 90s.

So we drove in search of a Sonic with a working ice machine and ordered our drinks. Then we headed home and the girls spent the next two hours painting each other’s faces. And hands. And legs. And hair. And I let them because it’s not like they could go play outside in the oven known as our backyard.

Then everyone took a shower and I made tacos/nachos/chalupas/whatever you want to make using beans, beef, chips, and cheese. Currently, they are in the living room watching Swiss Family Robinson and I am hiding out in the bedroom. Because if they see me they might decide they’re hungry again and I think I’m out of food.

I’m also out of face paint.

But at least I wasn’t wheeled off the roller rink today in a desk chair.