Another day

Before I get all wrapped up in recounting what was a truly non-eventful yesterday, I wanted to let y’all know that the outfit Caroline had on in that last picture is from Naartjie. Which, frankly, I’m a little obsessed with right now. Mainly because I know she’ll probably only agree to wear stuff like that for about another year before it’s all Justin Beiber t-shirts or some similar horror.

So yesterday morning was pretty cold. At least cold by Texas standards and all I wanted to do was drop Caroline off at school, drive to Starbucks, order a Peppermint Mocha in a festive red holiday cup, and then go back home and spend the rest of the morning reading about Prince William and Kate because there is really nothing I can get behind so much as a royal wedding. I am a sucker for some British royalty for reasons I don’t even understand myself.

But I didn’t get to do any of that. Well, later I spent more than several minutes reading all about Prince William and how he gave Kate the ring that Charles gave Diana. It looks very similar to those costume jewelry rings they sell at Steinmart but, you know, it’s real and is probably worth more than my house. Or my life. I’m also willing to bet she isn’t going to have to worry about her finger turning green.

The point is I had to run. As in exercise. Because, even though I haven’t mentioned it lately, I am still in the process of moving from the couch to a 5K. I took a three week hiatus back in October due to my bronchitis because it’s hard to exercise when your lungs are trying to abdicate from your body, but I’ve been back at it since the end of October and I think that puts me at week 5 even though I accidentally did day one of week six last Friday and ran for eight minutes without stopping before I realized my error. And so now I know that I can run at least eight minutes without stopping and OH THE PRESSURE to keep up that momentum.

Between you and me, I have yet to experience anything resembling a runners’ high. Although I have experienced several instances of runners’ side cramps that make me want to head back to my couch TOOT SUITE to recuperate.

Anyway, I put on my new fleece with my running shorts and decided I was going to need to kick it old school if I was going to find the proper motivation. (Yes. I just wrote “kick it old school”.) I added a little Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey and some Bobby B. And possibly Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch.

It totally worked because I ran the farthest I’ve ever run. Plus, I almost didn’t want to kill the lady inside my iPhone that condescendingly says, “Halfway There” during the middle of it all and that is huge progress. It just goes to prove that sometimes nothing will get you through like Steve Perry or Bobby B. or Marky Mark and his Funky Bunch.

After I got back home, I made a list and went to HEB. When P got back home on Sunday night, the first thing he asked me was when I planned to go to the grocery store and I said, “When I feel like it” because I am a giver by nature. He said he was going to start a list because we were out of several things. I waited until he’d left the room to look at his list and, I’m not even kidding, this is it:

Orange Milano Cookies
razors

I believe both those things fall into the category of WANT, not need. He owns a landscaping business which means he can totally grow a beard.

So I held out for two days and then went to the store to get razors and Orange Milano cookies and milk and toilet paper because NEED, not want. And I decided to go ahead and buy the stuff I’ll need to contribute to our family’s Thanksgiving dinner. I turned down the baking aisle to load up on semi-sweet chocolate and sugar, then I began to make my way through the rest of the store.

However, the floor was so gritty all of a sudden. And I was wearing my cowboy boots and the gritty sound and texture was more than I could bear. I was raging internally about HEB and their gritty, dirty floor and composing a letter to the manager in my head, when I looked down and realized that the sugar I’d put in my cart had a hole in it and I was the one trailing sugar all over creation. And then stepping in it and making an even bigger mess.

So, yeah. Never mind on that letter to the manager.

I spent the rest of the day meeting Gulley for lunch, picking up Caroline from school and trying to decide if I want to grow my bangs back out or get them cut again. We also worked on memorizing some animal poems because, apparently, memorization is a big thing in second grade.

Finally it was time to make dinner. I planned to make chili because it was slightly cold outside and I figured everyone (Everyone? All three of us!) could make a Frito pie or a chili dog or maybe combine the two together like the brilliant folks at Sonic have done.

(Yes. I took a picture of the menu at Sonic. Because I have been obsessed with the combo chili dog/Frito pie. Depending on the sophistication of your palate, it is either brilliant or disgusting. I happen to think it is the food group I’ve been looking for all my life. Clearly, I am sophisticated.)

But here’s a cooking tip you can take to the bank or wherever else you like to take things that are worth keeping. I’m not claiming to be any kind of master cook. I’m not Pioneer Woman throwing down with Bobby Flay, but I can tell you this one thing.

If you plan to make chili for dinner, it really helps if you remember to buy the ingredients to make the chili when you’re at the grocery store.

Thank you and good day.

There wasn’t really a whole lot going on around here this past weekend. But when you consider I started my Friday morning by attempting to brush our dog Scout’s teeth, there was really nowhere to go but up.

By the way, it is true what they say. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Or the importance of dental hygiene to prevent plaque buildup. He was having none of it. Which I kind of suspected. Especially after Gulley saw the Doggie Dental Care Kit on my kitchen counter Thursday afternoon and HOWLED until she cried when I told her I was going to brush Scout’s teeth.

P was down at the ranch all weekend because it’s hunting season and that’s what he does. And, by the way, the weekend apparently starts on Thursday from November through the end of January. So it was just Caroline and me until she got a better offer for Friday night and decided to go to a pizza party at a friend’s house.

I thought my Friday night was going to be a quiet affair with just me, The Making of The Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders reality show, and the sound of my self-image plummeting to the ground as I watch them tell a girl who weighs 98 pounds soaking wet that she’s “a little thick”. But somehow I ended up being convinced Caroline needed to have a friend spend the night which altered my plans to be curled up with a bag of Double Chocolate Milanos by 8:00 p.m.

Instead I ended up going out to eat Mexican food with Mimi, Bops and Gulley because Gulley’s husband took the boys to a high school football game and she decided to pass. (As I reread this I feel like I should clarify that she needed to pass ON the game, not pass IN the game. It sounded a little like she might have taken to the field.) So we let Mimi and Bops take us out to dinner just like we were back in college instead of two women in our late thirties. Unfortunately, unlike college, we weren’t able to go back to their house, spend the night in their guest bedroom and sleep until noon the next day. Because we caved to the man and became responsible members of society at some point in the last twenty years.

I picked up Caroline and her friend from the pizza party and brought them home. They were tired and so I was able to pass off crawling in my bed and watching a few episodes of Dukes of Hazzard as entertainment. I’m sure her friend’s parents will be delighted that their daughter now has a working knowledge of Boss Hogg and his attempts to defraud the citizens of Hazzard County. At our house we believe that the children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way.

Someone ought to write a song about that.

On Saturday I realized we were out of trash bags and thus we took our lives into our own hands and went to Walmart. Normally I would never go to Walmart, especially on a Saturday, but we’d just eaten lunch at Chick-Fil-A and it was right there. And, truthfully, it wasn’t too bad. I even noticed that the Horizon Organic Milk at Walmart has a much later expiration date than the Horizon milk they’re selling at HEB.

And with that sentence, I just turned into my Me-Ma. Has this kind of minutiae become some important to my life that I not only notice it, but share it on the internet? I am sad for myself.

Then Saturday evening we headed over to Gulley’s to watch the A&M game. Which, GLORY, it was just a nightmarish first half that left me questioning the integrity and morals of every ref involved. But then the second half came and our defense readjusted and we all celebrated loudly at what is hopefully the dawn of a new beginning for Aggie football.

Gulley and I hoped against hope that ESPN Gameday would choose to go to College Station for our game against Nebraska this coming weekend because we’d already planned to be there with the kids and felt like some strategic sign-making and face-painting might get our children a shout out from Kirk Herbstreit. Or at the very least, Lee Corso. But, alas, Gameday announced that they will instead be broadcasting from Wrigley Field for the Northwestern vs. Illinois game. Because six people care about that.

(No offense if you went to Northwestern or Illinois. I’m sure they are lovely schools, but neither one is making headlines for football this season. Oh, but they’re playing at a BASEBALL FIELD! It’s so novel!)

(And I’m a little bitter. Because I’d already been practicing how to write “Gig’em” across Caroline’s cheek.)

Sunday morning, Caroline and I went to church and then we ate breakfast at Jim’s with Mimi and Bops. I ordered the Migas because they’re usually good. But they had too many onions.

Much like this post has too many details.

And so I’ll leave you with this if you are an Aggie fan. If not, feel free to skip down for a few more important notes of interest.

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In light of the fact that the Aggies beat Baylor this weekend (Did I mention that?) I feel like the least I can do is give a shout out to one of my favorite Baylor alumni, my friend Shaun Groves. Shaun is raising money so that he can make a new album.

Here’s the thing. Shaun travels all around the country, sings his songs, talks about Compassion and helps release children all over the world from poverty. If he has a new album, more people will want him to come sing, which means he’ll get to talk about Compassion, and, thus, MORE CHILDREN WILL BE RELEASED FROM POVERTY. Click on over to find out how you can help.

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There’s a great opportunity to get some great prizes from one of the NFL’s sponsors, Procter & Gamble. Check out their “Take it to the House” program and photo contest, where prizes include a $10,000 community donation to support NFL PLAY 60 and an at-home visit from a local NFL legend! One lucky Grand Prize Winner will even win a trip to the 2011 Pro Bowl in Hawaii. Click over to my giveaway page for details.

Last night we were watching an episode of Dukes of Hazzard because that show has become Caroline’s new obsession ever since P and I introduced her to it about two weeks ago. We believe it’s important to instill culture in your children at an early age. And, truly, it has brought up some interesting talking points around our household such as why Bo and Luke always take their shirts off before they fight, why Bo wears his jeans so tight, and why Daisy, Bo, and Luke all are grown-ups but still live with their Uncle Jesse.

I don’t know the answers to any of these questions. Actually, I have my suspicions about the shirtless Duke boys and the tight jeans, but I don’t know why they all lived with Uncle Jesse. I just appreciate that Caroline is astute enough to wonder about things that never crossed my mind all those Friday nights that I wrapped myself up in my Raggedy Ann sleeping bag and watched the Dukes on a huge console T.V.

And here’s my question. Do y’all think Daisy always had on pantyhose with her shorts? After careful observation, I’m about 94% certain she did.

But that’s not really the point of any of this. The episode we watched last night involved a con-woman who duped Roscoe P. Coltrane into marrying her so that she and her co-conspirators could pull off a bank robbery or something. I’m not totally sure about that part because I was in the middle of turning a turkey into a hunter, which is another story entirely and I realize seems completely out of context here.

(Are you wondering if I’m so desperate for material that I’ve stooped to recaps of antiquated hillbilly T.V. shows? I promise this is going somewhere. Although I can’t guarantee this whole blog won’t plummet to that level at some point in the next year or so.)

Toward the end of the episode, Roscoe realizes he’s been duped by his bride and is heartbroken. And, I kid you not, I realized I had tears in my eyes. I genuinely felt sad for a fake sheriff in a fictional backwoods town.

There is only one good reason for this. Hormonal fluctuations.

I blame two things: my insurance company and whoever makes the generic version of Yaz birth control pills.

This whole thing started back in June when I went to pick up my prescription and the pharmacist informed me that there was now a generic version of Yaz and, HOORAY FOR ME, that’s what my insurance company pays for. Even though they technically don’t pay for anything until I meet a $500 deductible which never happens until it’s time for a new year to begin again.

So I took home my generic Yaz and felt like I could totally tell the difference after about three days. But I tried to mind over matter the whole thing because my pharm rep past has made me suspect that all generic drugs have the potential to be of the devil. It’s true. You can look it up on the internet if you don’t believe me.

Because all information found on the internet is 100% accurate.

Fast forward to about three weeks ago when I had my annual appointment with my OB/Gyn.

(I’m certain this is the point in this post when you wish I’d just stuck to a recap of The Dukes of Hazzard.)

He asked me how I was feeling and I rattled off a long list of complaints including feeling hot at random times, insomnia, and the occasional desire to rev the engine of my station wagon and peel out of the driveway in a fit of anger. But then I said, “You’re probably just going to tell me it’s because I’m about to be 40.”

And he replied, “No, I think it may be your pills. I’ve had several complaints about the generic version.”

At which point I did a few fist pumps in my mind because VINDICATION.

So he switched me to a new pill. I just started it a few days ago. And now you really know more than I ever intended for the internet to know.

But I forgot about the side effects, like hormone headaches and nausea and the desire to throw the remote control through the T.V. because you can’t stand to listen to one more hunter whisper loudly throughout an entire thirty-minute hunting program, that come with starting a new pill.

I just hope they don’t last too much longer because at some point we’re going to get to the episode where Boss Hogg thinks he’s dying and gives Uncle Jesse the deed to the Duke farm.

And that may be too much emotion for me to handle right now.

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On a serious note, I want to say thank you to all the veterans for their brave service. I pray that none of us take our freedom for granted. It has come at a price.

“This nation will remain the land of the free only so long as it is the home of the brave.” – Elmer Davis

1. Before I say anything else I just have to say thank you for the encouraging comments yesterday. Sometimes it’s hard to know how vulnerable to be on the world wide web and I wish we could all have a group hug.

I can’t remember if I read this somewhere or heard it somewhere or if I just thought it up on my own (let’s pretend it’s the last one), but I think the world would be a kinder place if we kept in mind that all of us have some cracks in our hearts, even if they don’t show on the outside.

2. Speaking of things that are broken.

Something has gone terribly awry with our jack-o-lanterns.

P and I have been involved in the Great Pumpkin Standoff of 2010. Neither of us wanted to be the one to go shovel those suckers off our front steps so we both pretended they weren’t there.

But I finally caved yesterday.

I blame the fruit flies.

3. I would pay $50 for a box of Hot Tamales right now.

4. Last night we were eating family dinner and P told Caroline and me about a snake he’d seen earlier in the day while he was working at the ranch. Apparently it was only about eleven inches long and looked just like a baby rattlesnake but didn’t have a rattle. And when he picked it up, it coiled up into a tight little circle and stayed that way even when P tossed it from one hand to another.

Please take a moment to process that last sentence. WHY WOULD HE PICK IT UP? WHY?

So I asked, “WHY DID YOU PICK IT UP? HOW DID YOU KNOW IT WOULDN’T BITE YOU? HOW DO YOU KNOW IT WASN’T A BABY RATTLESNAKE THAT WAS MISSING A RATTLE?”

He looked at me as if I were the crazy one and replied, “I knew it wasn’t poisonous because it had a pointed tail”.

Oh, well sure. It had a pointed tail.

And then Caroline said, “DID YOU KNOW IF YOU DIE IN THE JUNGLE THAT ARMY ANTS WILL EAT YOUR ENTIRE BODY?”

I am a stranger in my own home.

5. I downloaded Dave Barnes’ new Christmas album, Very Merry Christmas, yesterday and it is delightful. And it’s only $6.99 on iTunes right now.

That’s a lot of Christmas for not very much money.

6. The door guy still hasn’t shown up to replace the window in the new front door. And yesterday P asked me if I paid him in full. Which, YES, I did.

And so now I’m worried that I might be stuck with a piece of plywood in my new door until I actually call a glass company. I think we all know that may never happen.

7. Does anyone have any suggestions on where to order some cute and unique Christmas cards? I know about Shutterfly and all those places, but I was hoping for something a little different.

8. Swanson broth is giving away a $500 gift card right now. Click on over to my giveaway page to find out how to enter. It couldn’t be easier.

9. I’m adding this one late, but I just read this post by Jon Acuff this morning and adore it.

It was 92 degrees here yesterday. Which really has nothing to do with this post. Or it may have everything to do with this post. I really have no idea since I’m not exactly sure where this post is headed. All I know is that is was hot here yesterday and I am officially over the heat. I need to wear boots. I need to feel the warmth of a sweater wrapped around my shoulders. I need to be able to drink my signature hot choffee in the morning and not break a sweat.

Dear Summer,

Go away.

Love,
Melanie

About two months ago, P and I finally broke down and ordered a new front door. It was something we had been meaning to do for approximately forever and, if you think I’m kidding, let me direct you to this post I wrote about it way back in June 2007. We are nothing if not masters in the art of procrastination around our house.

But in all fairness, it’s hard to get excited about buying a new front door. I’d rather spend the money on things like faux fur vests and new cowboy boots and some Ugg moccasins to get me through the winter if it ever shows up. And P would rather spend the money on ammo or just bury it in the backyard because he still has his doubts about any sort of economic recovery and we don’t need to be so dependent on traditional banking institutions when a coffee can buried in the backyard will suffice.

Anyway, we loved our old door. As did the termites who ultimately destroyed it.

This is the old door from the inside.

And the outside.

I told the door guy that I basically wanted the exact same door and really wanted to use the existing piece of beveled glass in the old door because it is as old as the house. Or I should say it was as old as the house. Because as he went to put it in the new door on Thursday, it totally cracked. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t since it was obvious that he already felt terrible about it.

And then it dawned on me (because I am very quick) that the new door would be made out of wood. Which meant that I could just have it stained instead of painted. It was a revelation.

So, here’s the new door with a piece of temporary plywood where the little window will be once the new glass is finished.

I know. The plywood kind of takes away from the whole look. It looks a little ghetto fabulous right now. I also haven’t hung my wreath back up because I can’t bring myself to put a nail in the door yet. But the stained wood looks so much better in the living room and kind of anchors the room.

(I say that like I know what I’m talking about. I don’t know if it anchors the room. It just looks better.)

And I still have other things I want to do in the living room. I have yet to hang a black and white picture above the mantle. I’d love to have a vintage map of Texas on the wall. I think we’d be well-served to reduce our number of deer heads down to one. But I keep getting distracted by other things I want to do. Like painting the kitchen turquoise and then not liking it and painting it chocolate brown.

Not to mention that Holly (who may or may not regret ever telling me that she does online decorating consultations) is trying to help me come up with ideas to redo Caroline’s bathroom since Caroline keeps telling me the black and white toile is “way too old-lady” for her and wants to decorate the whole thing with some sort of Hawaiian theme. Which isn’t going to happen.

And then P tells me that there’s no point in doing anything to her bathroom until we do something about the tile floor in there that is cracked and needs to be replaced. It’s all my fault because we never should have put white tile in there. It has been a thorn in my side for twelve years.

I guess my point is that sometimes y’all ask me if you missed the post where I decided on the fabric for my kitchen windows or if I found pillows for the living room or if I ever found a lampshade I liked. Always know that the odds lean heavily on the side of I haven’t gotten around to it yet because I just like to talk about things for a very long time. I enjoy the talking very much. It’s the actual doing part that kind of brings me down.

Not to mention that stores actually want you to pay for stuff like new flooring and lampshades and fabric for windows.

But if the new front door is any indication, I should be getting all those things accomplished sometime around 2013. I’ll keep you posted.

Get it?

Posted.

Because I have a blog.

(I’m sorry. I blame the heat.)

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The LG TextEd campaign is going on over at BlogHer. There are some really good posts from moms about how they handle issues related to texting. I especially like the posts on the dangers of texting and driving. DoSomething.org will donate 50 cents for every comment left on the LG TextEd posts, so you can join the discussion and make a difference, too.