Another day

A list or some things or whatever

Thanks so much for all the birthday wishes for P yesterday. Y’all are the best.

And, most of all, he got what I know he always dreamed of for his fortieth birthday. A wife who doesn’t feel well who stayed in her pajamas all day while occasionally hacking up a lung.

Oh yes. It’s all romance, all the time around here.

Here are just a few quick things before I take a hit of some cough medicine and sign off the internet:

1. Several of you emailed me about the obnoxiously loud Sun Chips bags being taken off the market. I’d seen the news when it first broke on Tuesday and rejoiced loudly. Not as loud as those bags, but loud enough.

I’ll recycle all the live long day but, dadgummit, I want to eat my chips in peace and quiet the way God and Mr. Frito originally intended.

2. While I was in Houston this past weekend, I saw these white pitchers in all different sizes and shapes at Marshalls. They were priced between $4.99 and $9.99 and would have been perfect to place on top of my kitchen cabinets. But, oh no, I decided it was too much trouble to have to buy those pitchers and lug them all the way back home to San Antonio.

I could kick myself.

I planned to see if they had them at a Marshalls here in town, but insert unknown illness that has made me feel lethargic and achy for three days.

3. There is an all new chance to win a $100 gift card through my latest Kellogg’s giveaway. Just click here to enter.

4. Does anyone have any good (and simple) appetizer recipes they’d like to share? I’m in need of a few new food items to add to my Saturday afternoon football watching rotation.

5. I’ll be back tomorrow with Fashion Friday. I’ll discuss what to wear with leggings among other fascinating topics.
Nothing to see here

I so appreciate that y’all would like to see a picture of my new bangs. However, that is not possible at this juncture because I haven’t had on makeup in twenty-four hours and, even though I’m all about keeping it real, I’m not really sure any of us need that much reality.

But I promise that the next time my hair is freshly styled and I don’t look like a slightly worse version of death warmed over, I will post a picture of myself with the new bangs.

In other news, I think I contracted some type of flu-type illness while I was in Houston this past weekend. But I hesitated to write about it because I told P that I was just going to put a quick post that said I wasn’t feeling well and he said I’ve written way too much recently about having PMS and not feeling well.

So now, not only do I feel achy and tired, I am also extremely paranoid that many of you may think I’m a hypochondriac. Or worse, a complainer.

Truthfully, I may be both of those things depending on the day.

But I’m legitimately not feeling well and spent most of yesterday in bed. Which means I have nothing interesting to write about and can’t even make something up. I know this because I’ve been desperately trying to think of anything for the last hour.

I have nothing.

Unless you want to hear about how many Advil I’ve taken in the last twenty-four hours. And I’m going to assume that’s a no.

So why don’t you tell me something interesting in the comments, like maybe the name of a blog you love to read or whether you think Pretty in Pink or Sixteen Candles is the best movie from the 80’s or maybe there’s a question you’d like me to answer one of these days. Whatever. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves.
I dedicate this post to Eye of the Tiger

On Friday morning I packed up Caroline, my bangs and myself and drove to Houston for the weekend. Yes, I have bangs.

Again.

I blame Reese Witherspoon and her perfect bangs that aren’t hindered by a cowlick and an overall spirit of stubbornness.

And I count the bangs as their own entity for the weekend because I am constantly aware of them right now. Where are my bangs? What are they doing? Have they rebelled and gone two separate directions while I wasn’t paying attention?

It’s not that I don’t like them. In fact, I’ve been plotting to get bangs all summer long. I was just waiting for the humidity to drop somewhere below 152%. I think I just need them to grow out a tad bit longer which is my fault because my sweet hairstylist cut them perfectly the first time and I said I thought they needed to be a little shorter.

I bet Reese keeps her mouth shut when she’s getting her hair cut. I bet she doesn’t offer her own amateur opinions to a professional.

So, not only does she have better bangs than me, she’s also smarter than me.

But enough about Reese.

The trip to Houston has been on my calendar since sometime around last February. Several of Sophie’s college girlfriends wanted to get together to celebrate her birthday and decided to have the festivities in Houston where one of them lives. And they invited me to join them for all the big fun.

I’m so glad they did. Not only did I get to spend the weekend celebrating Sophie’s birthday with her, but I got to hang out with seven other sweet girls that made me laugh until I cried as they told stories from their college days. And you know what I have to show for it?

A picture of the cupcakes I bought on Saturday afternoon from Crave Cupcakes. I think the banana one may have changed my life. And I’m not even normally a huge fan of the banana flavored baked goods, but I took a risk. A risk that totally paid off.

Sometime last week I saw something on T.V. that showed how your heart beats after you eat a meal that’s high in fat and I’m so sorry I saw it. Because it’s a wonder my heart didn’t just up and stop after everything I ate this weekend. But there are probably worse ways to go than sitting around sharing massive amounts of the beef fajitas from Lupe Tortilla while singing Total Eclipse of the Heart with eight other girls.

The whole weekend was so much fun. There were pedicures and cheeseburgers and college football games and shopping. Oh the shopping. We debated the merits of various booties and the practicality of the open-toed bootie. And Sophie’s friend, EK, found a dress at Marshall’s that I’m still thinking about. The only thing that soothed my disappointment over the lack of additional dresses was the fact that I bought a really cute shirt at Nordstrom Rack for $4.00. FOUR DOLLARS.

In the meantime, I’d dropped Caroline off at a hotel where she spent the weekend with Mimi and Bops. She told me she “wasn’t sure how she was going to make it until Sunday” without seeing me, but I think she felt better after she bungee-jumped at The Galleria for about her fourth time. Bless her heart, it makes me so sad to think of how she had to endure being spoiled rotten all weekend long.

And so on Sunday morning, I said goodbye to my new friends and went to meet Mimi, Bops and Caroline for breakfast. You’ll be glad to know she survived the weekend and found comfort for her soul by jumping back and forth between the beds in their hotel room.

We headed back to San Antonio and I was so tired that the only thing that kept me going was a steady rotation of 80’s Hits on Pandora. I owe Eye of The Tiger a debt of gratitude for giving me a little pick me up sometime around Seguin when I hit the wall and felt like I couldn’t go on anymore.

Now I plan to sleep for about four days. And dream about banana cupcakes with cream cheese frosting.

And to my dear friend, Sophie. I’m so glad I was able to spend your birthday with you and some of your oldest friends. Thanks so much for including me in all the fun.

Even though it sounded like we found each other through EHarmony every time we told the story of how we met.
So I took a little road trip

Dear Friends from the Internet,

I don’t know that I’ve ever loved y’all more than I did yesterday when y’all went above and beyond to tell me all about your preferred television shows. Although I have to say that many of you way underestimated me by assuming that I don’t watch Glee or Modern Family or Chuck. I merely mentioned the new shows I’m auditioning to become part of my regular rotation because who has the time to read all my various programming choices and the reasons why they are dear to my heart?

And I do become invested in my shows. Hence the reason I am already mourning the imminent end of Friday Night Lights. I don’t know what I’m going to do without Eric and Tami Taylor. The sky won’t be as blue.

Not to mention that I found out yesterday that Brad is leaving Rachel Zoe, Inc.

I DIE.

I AM DEAD.

Oh, and that Brad Womack is going to be the new bachelor. Which just goes to prove that there are a lot of single women out there who think they are going to be the one to make a handsome bar owner with commitment issues settle down and change his ways. Here’s a secret, play the lottery instead. The odds are better.

But enough about television. For now.

Yesterday was such a gorgeous day. In fact, the whole week here has been absolutely perfect. I’ve even worn sweaters for about three hours every morning before the temperatures get back up to the mid-80’s and I remember that October is too early to wear sweaters in Texas. I’ve only been a Texan my entire life so it’s understandable that I have to relearn this same principle every single fall.

Anyway, I went to our church in the morning to help register women for Bible study, even though I am completely paranoid about being in charge of any type of administrative duties. That is not one of my gifts. Mainly because it involves things like details. And numbers. And sometimes even basic math skills.

After I finished up, I decided on a total whim to drive out to Boerne (It’s a little town outside San Antonio and is pronounced like Bernie. As in Bernie Mac, but without the Mac.) I’d gone out with my friends from Birthday Club the night before and a few of them were talking about some great little boutiques in downtown Boerne. So I turned up a little Pat Green on the stay wag stereo and made the thirty minute drive out there intending to only stay for about an hour.

So, naturally, I found myself finally heading back home three hours later. I had the best time looking in all the antique stores and home goods stores and clothing boutiques. And I found some treasures that you can’t find just anywhere.

Like this vest.

No, I didn’t buy it. But GOD BLESS AMERICA that it exists.

And speaking of America, the land of opportunity, check this out.

Acorns. Twenty-five cents apiece.

Caroline totally cut me a deal on the acorns she sold me. I had no idea the acorn market was so lucrative.

Then I saw this framed Lonesome Dove Trail map and fell in love.

I’ve decided I want some type of vintage Texas map to frame and hang in my living room, but this one was more than my standard $15 price limit so I had to pass.

I also passed on these melamine plates that I debated buying to hang in the kitchen.

And now I think I regret that decision.

However, I did make one purchase.

I’m not even sure where I’m going to put it, but I loved it immediately. The picture really doesn’t do it justice. The store owner told me it was made by a local Austin artist, but she couldn’t remember her name. Which makes me sad because I’d love to see her other stuff. This was the last piece in the store.

Then I bought myself a veggie sandwich made on homemade wheat bread and drove back home to pick up Caroline from school.

When we got back home I showed P my new piece of art and he asked, “Is it supposed to look like that?”

I realize it’s no roll of toilet paper on top of a toaster oven, but I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

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My friend, Travis, released his first book a few days ago. It’s called Surprised by Worship and I can’t recommend it enough.

It’s on sale on Amazon. Just click on over to order a copy. And no I’m not getting compensated or anything to mention it. It’s just a great book written by a dear friend.
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There’s a new Kellogg’s giveaway on my giveaway page. Click over here for a chance to win $100 gift card.
I feel we represent a different kind of southern living

Well, after reading some of the comments on yesterday’s post, I was thoroughly freaked out about the possibility that the acorns Caroline brought home for me might be the host vehicle for some type of worm as opposed to little tiny oak trees that never reached their full potential. So I explained the situation to her and said it might be in our best interest to use them somewhere outside. Like maybe the trash.

She completely agreed with my decision but I’ll have you know that she didn’t offer me any sort of refund. That’s two dollars that I’ll never see again.

I’m just thankful that I didn’t buy into her sales pitch on the way to school yesterday morning when she tried to convince me the acorns might be worth the same amount as a new game for her Nintendo DS. Listen, if I wanted to pay $25 for fifteen acorns I’d shop at Pottery Barn.

(Speaking of Pottery Barn, have y’all seen the Catalog Living blog? Hilarious.)

As I bagged up the little worm-infested acorns, I felt that it was just one more example of why my house will never be like the homes featured in Southern Living. In all the years that I’ve perused the latest issues of various home decorating magazines, I have never once seen a dining room table that featured rotten, worm-infested acorns as a centerpiece.

Understandably so.

Here are a few other things you’ll never see in Southern Living:

The charming tableau that P has arranged using our toaster as a focal point.

Sure he could use a box of Kleenex to help him through fall allergy season, but that’s such an obvious choice. And if the half-used roll of toilet paper on top of the toaster doesn’t send the message, I think the spare roll off to the side says WE ARE EXTRA-CLASSY.

Along those same lines, I think these bright orange soccer cones really add a little something extra to our office area.

Before Caroline was born, I bought these darling little canister-things at Restoration Hardware. So you can be certain that I paid too much for them. But I felt like they added just the right decorative touch to the bathroom.

So you can imagine my delight that Caroline has decided to use them as various receptacles for her mouthwash, toothpaste, toothbrush, hand soap and whatever else she decides to stick in there on any given day. I’m sure that’s exactly what the folks at Restoration Hardware had in mind.

And then there is Caroline’s bedroom that has become P’s temporary lodging while he fights a cold and snores loud enough to wake the dead.

I blame myself for this really. I brought that yellow floral comforter into our marriage. It belonged to me in college. Never could I have imagined that, twenty years later, my husband would use it every single night. And that it would become a replacement for the beautiful hot pink bedding I picked out for my little girl’s bedroom.

But you know what’s worse than that comforter crumpled up on her bed? Trying to sleep while he breaks the sound barrier.

Finally, there is this.

You can’t really tell from my stellar photography, but that’s an album full of slides P pulled out about three weeks ago with the goal of going through all of them and getting them turned into a DVD. And then headless Butterfly Barbie joined in on the action about a week ago.

I’m not sure why.

But I can guarantee you that those acorns will hatch, the worms will complete an entire life cycle and those slides will still be right there.

As will the toilet paper on the toaster.

It’s how we roll.

(Yes. I just went there.)
It’s not really a dry heat

I will remember Saturday as one of the hottest days of my life. Although I’m sure I’ve probably survived hotter days. But those days didn’t happen forty-eight hours ago so I don’t need to complain about them at this juncture.

Saturday morning started off just fine. Except for the fact that Caroline doesn’t really get the concept that Saturday mornings are for sleeping in. I can’t figure out why I have to drag her out of bed Monday through Friday but yet she wakes me up at 7:00 a.m. on Saturday morning by leaning in as close to my face as she can get and uses a stage whisper to ask, “Will you turn on some cartoons for me?” After I peel myself off the ceiling, I lovingly say, “Go find your daddy”.

But P had to head out early Saturday morning to help a bunch of men cook about 8000 pounds of meat, give or take 7900 pounds, for our church’s fall festival and he wasn’t available to turn on cartoons and scramble some eggs. So I rolled out of bed, cooked some breakfast, and hoped for a cat nap during Phineas and Ferb before we had to leave for our soccer game.

The game was at 1:00. We got dressed and left for the fields by 12:30. This was a personal best departure time for me, especially considering that P wasn’t there to rush me out the door. It was my day to bring snack so I lugged the cooler across the parking lot and felt like I was about to die because it was approximately 132 degrees with about 204% humidity.

We met P at the field and the Cheetah Girls took to the field for what had to be the hottest, most torturous game of their little soccer careers. Bless their hearts, they all looked like they’d jumped in a pool by the time it was over. And meanwhile all the parents sat on the sidelines and complained about how we’d never been so hot in our lives. As we sat there. Drinking our water. Under our umbrellas. Cheering on our precious babies as they ran up and down the field.

After the game, Caroline and I drove out to the Fall Festival with P to see if I could possibly get any hotter without spontaneously combusting. As it turns out, I didn’t explode. But I wanted to. I would have happily exploded if it meant that I could have gotten out of the heat.

I spent Saturday night trying to hydrate myself and wishing I could pack myself in a bathtub of ice like they did to Almanzo in that episode of Little House on the Prairie when he was so sick and Laura showed up to take care of him and let him know she still loved him even though he’d said that no woman of his was going to have a job. It’s one of my top five favorite Little House episodes ever.

On Sunday Caroline ended up spending most of the day with Mimi and Bops. I was all excited about the alleged cold front that still hasn’t shown up as I type this (if it doesn’t make it here I will say horrible things about the weatherman for leading me on) and decided it would be a great time to really clean off our back porch and get it ready for all the dinners I envision us eating out there once the weather drops down to a crisp 85 this week.

P had planned to sit on the couch and do nothing all day, but I lured him into my cleaning scheme because he doesn’t trust me to mix the bleach in the little pressure washer thing. I mean, you kill the grass dead one or six times and everyone’s a critic.

Somehow cleaning the porch turned into bathing the dogs, taking the screens off all the windows and washing them from top to bottom and cleaning off all the outdoor furniture. I say that like we have vast amounts of outdoor furniture. We have a table. And four chairs. And a glider thing. Still, it was a lot of work.

I also discovered that we don’t have any grass AT ALL on the far side of our house. It’s just dirt. Dirt that turned into mud while I washed the windows over there. So I asked P, “How long have we not had grass on that side of the house?”

“About seven years.”

Clearly I need to get out more.

Later in the afternoon, Mimi and Bops dropped Caroline off. She handed me a Ziploc bag full of acorns and said, “Mama, I picked all these up for you so you can put them in the glass things on the dining room table”.

(The glass urns on my table are filled with pinecones, acorns and little pumpkins right now. Very festive.)

“Thanks, Baby. That’s so sweet!”

What a sweet girl. Always thinking about her mama and taking the time to pick up all those acorns just to make me happy.

“You’re welcome, but I’m going to need to get a few dollars for them.”

Okay, so maybe she’s not as sweet as much as she’s a capitalist.