Another day

  • I have always believed in all the access I can get

    About two months ago, I was checking email and noticed I had an email from Pam Case, the Director of Women’s Ministry for LifeWay Church Resources.

    For those of y’all who don’t know, LifeWay is one of the world’s largest providers of Christian products and services. I realize that is a pretty vague description and makes it sound like they might be the people who manufacture Jesus Band-Aids or perhaps a five pack of Jesus Pencil Toppers.

    Which if they were I would so get myself some Jesus Band-Aids because think of all the cool spiritual analogies you could come up with as you handed them out.

    Although I’m pretty sure that Jesus’s ultimate goal wasn’t to see himself in the form of a pencil topper.

    Anyway, Lifeway has an incredible women’s ministry department that includes awesome Bible studies by Beth Moore, Priscilla Shirer, Kay Arthur, Kelly Minter and Vicki Courtney. And not only do they publish these incredible studies, they host events like Living Proof Live, Deeper Still and You and Your Girl.

    So, when I saw an email from the Director of Women’s Ministry, I paid attention to it. In fact, since the email was to both BooMama and me, I may have even sent her a frantic ichat message that said, “ALERT! ALERT!”

    I think we were both pretty certain that they were emailing to ask that we please stop taking up Travis Cottrell’s time with these trivial podcasts that we churn out with shocking irregularity and ultimately do nothing to make the world a better place.

    Or, fingers crossed, maybe they were emailing because they heard me mention that I’d like to sing “Open Arms” by Amy Grant as a duet with Travis at one of the Living Proof Live events.

    Of course there was always the possibility that they wanted me to write Bible studies for them because they had read some of my deeper posts on subjects like wearing a swimsuit that was way too small while seven months pregnant and then having to scale a chain-link fence.

    As it turns out, it was none of those things.

    LifeWay was interested in starting a blog for women that would provide a behind-the-scenes look at what’s going on in their women’s ministry department. A place where women can find out everything from what new studies are coming out, to the really important issues like where Beth Moore got that darling jacket she was wearing at the most recent Living Proof Live event.

    So, Sophie and I made a trip to Nashville to talk with them about blog stuff. Look! Here we are in Nashville right before we ate some sandwich wraps.

    img_2045.jpg

    That picture indicates that either I got little to no sleep the night before or I am in desperate need of an eye-lift.

    We spent the day with the incredible LifeWay women’s ministry staff and were blown away by how real and genuine every single one of these women (and one man!) are. By the time we left we felt like we had just spent time with friends.

    Anyway, a few conference calls and a lot of technical blog design stuff later, the brand new LifeWay All-Access blog is up and running. Sophie and I will each be posting over there 2-3 times a week along with the members of the women’s ministry team.

    But don’t worry. I’ll still be posting stellar, thought-provoking content on a daily basis here at Big Mama, Inc.

    I mean, did y’all not read the post on my bathroom cabinet?

    Basically, this all means that I’m going to need an IV filled with caffeine since I am incapable of writing anything before 10:30 p.m.

    It’s our hope that the LifeWay All-Access blog will be another place where we can talk about what’s going in our lives, what’s going on in ministry, what’s important to us as women, and just have fun.

    And maybe even hand out some Jesus Band-Aids as some sort of giveaway.

    So, head on over there. My first post is up and make sure you check out the welcome post from Pam Case.

    See you there.

  • Friday. The non-fashion edition.

    There will be no Fashion Friday today because I am holding on to my sanity by a very loose thread, my friends.

    This is the reason.

    img_4684.jpg

    That’s the inside of the cabinet in Caroline’s bathroom.

    By all appearances it would seem that a family of rabid possums got in there and had themselves a keg party.

    I only wish that were true.

    I did that. On purpose.

    Apparently yesterday morning something inside my head just snapped and I decided it was time to clean out the bathroom cabinet that has been on my To Do List for the last five years.

    Because mountains of laundry and a desperate need for groceries just seemed too easy to accomplish.

    I need a challenge. Where is my Everest?

    We renovated our house in 2003. It was an extensive redo which required us to pack all our stuff and move completely out of the house. I was also pregnant at that time so, as you can imagine, SHEER JOY TO LIVE WITH.

    I actually balanced my eight month pregnant body on scaffolding to help hang crown-molding because there was no way I was bringing my PRECIOUS BABY home to a rent house.

    Like Caroline would have shown up, looked around and said, “Wow. What a dump. I should have stayed in utero.”

    Anyway, this bathroom cabinet desperately needed a serious overhaul. From the outside it looked fine, but on the inside it was cracked, peeling paint and covered in something that I hesitate to call shelf paper for fear of offending real shelf paper everywhere. So in the midst of the remodel, we told the painters to make sure they painted the bathroom cabinet.

    The only problem was that their grasp of the English language was questionable and every time we told them to paint the bathroom cabinet, they painted the OUTSIDE of the bathroom cabinet. That sucker has about twelve coats of a nice, white eggshell finish.

    By the time we realized what had happened, it was too late. We moved back in the almost finished house and Caroline showed up just two weeks later.

    And by the way, when we carried her in the newly renovated house in her infant carrier, she totally gave us the thumbs up on the nice digs.

    The interior of the bathroom cabinet has been an albatross around my neck for the last five years. In fact, it was on my list of things to get done once Caroline started preschool, but somehow all those trips to Target got in the way.

    Yesterday morning I decided that since Caroline has now graduated from preschool, it was time to get it done.

    Bless my heart.

    I headed in there with my Hefty kitchen trash bag which was the equivalent of trying to harness the wind in a mayonnaise jar. I pulled off shelf paper, chipped off paint, and tore through some unknown substance that crumbled as I touched it. The cabinet is so big and tall that I actually had to climb in it to reach the top. I had no idea what I might find.

    Behind the shelf paper that lined the walls was some sort of material reminiscent of a burlap sack and it was nailed to the wall. I started ripping it out and just knew something disgusting was going to fall on me.

    About that time, Caroline came into the bathroom and turned on the sink. When I heard the hissing sound of water, I leapt out of the bathroom cabinet because I was certain I had just disturbed a family of snakes that had been residing there since the late 60’s.

    I am not kidding.

    FEAR. PANIC. HYPERVENTILATING.

    I may have overreacted.

    I definitely didn’t know I had the ability to leap from inside the bathroom cabinet to the top of the bathroom counter in a single bound.

    Anyway, I finally got it stripped down to just the wood. SIX HOURS LATER.

    Caroline and I went to the hardware store and purchased a gallon of paint in a lovely shade of bright pink. Because who doesn’t want a bright pink cabinet interior? We also bought some primer and other paraphernalia to complete our project.

    And my hat is off to the helpful paint salesmen who were much more concerned about searching for the Logan’s Roadhouse website so they could see what their T-Bone steaks looked like. Clearly, that was so much more interesting and crucial to the job than some customer who wanted to paint a cabinet bright pink.

    This is how far I’d gotten by the end of the day.

    img_4696.jpg

    Actually that’s inaccurate. I did get the first coat of primer on but I’m too tired to walk the ten feet it would take me to get in there and take a picture.

    Just imagine a really bad white paint job.

    Today I’ll start on the bright pink interior.

    I hope to have it finished before Caroline leaves for college, but I don’t want to push myself too hard.

    I’ll let y’all know how it goes.

  • Leaving on a jet plane

    So we’re flying out of Destin at 9:30 this morning. I can’t wait to see Caroline but am sad to say goodbye to my life of leisure. Something tells me by 6:30 tonight the sound of waves lulling me into relaxation will be replaced by the sound of a little voice listing the reasons why it’s not time for her to get ready for bed.

    Especially because she has spent the last five days being brainwashed by the grandparental system, only to be plunged cold turkey into a world that doesn’t involve a steady stream of donuts with sprinkles and staying up way past bedtime playing Polly Pockets.

    Anyway, I have a few items to share. First, if you have sent me an email and I haven’t responded, it’s because I can’t. The high-speed wi-fi (total oxymoron) will not allow me to type more than two words at a time before completely freezing up. And since I usually like to respond to people with a little more than “HI THERE!”, I have to wait until I get home to answer email.

    Although a little quirk of mine is that I answer most text messages with a capital “A” because I am not proficient with the text messaging, yet I like people to know that I have received their text.

    If someone would buy me a Blackberry Curve, my text issues would be solved forever. In fact, I tried to convince P to take my hot pink Motorola Razor so that I could upgrade, but he said no.

    Even when I told him it could pass as light red.

    I am so off-topic.

    The other thing I’d like to clarify is that I realize many workplaces don’t allow capri pants or trouser jeans even if they have a business casual dress code. When I wrote last Friday’s post I was thinking more along the lines of attire for the She Speaks Conference.

    I guess I could have been clearer.

    So for those of y’all who work in a bank or sell pharmaceuticals or what have you, do not wear trouser jeans or capris. You may possibly be fired and find yourself shuffling down the street with only a fabulous pair of trouser jeans to sustain you.

    Lastly, the book I finished on Sunday was “Traveling Mercies” by Anne Lamott. I don’t know why I hadn’t read it before, especially since I’m such a huge fan of “Bird by Bird”.

    Anyway, I loved it. I seriously loved it. It’s a memoir of her spiritual journey and made me laugh one minute and cry the next. I love her perspective on faith because she wasn’t raised in church and didn’t grow up knowing all the right answers. She just knows that she believes in Jesus and that He saved her from what was a very dark place, in spite of the fact that she wasn’t sure she wanted to be saved.

    As she recounts her conversion experience, she talks about knowing that Jesus was in the room with her. “I felt him a surely as I feel my dog lying nearby as I write this. And I was appalled. I thought about my life and my brilliant hilarious progressive friends, I thought about what everyone would think of me if I became a Christian, and it seemed an utterly impossible thing that simply could not be allowed to happen. I turned to the wall and said out loud, ‘I would rather die’.”

    But a week later, she couldn’t escape His overwhelming presence and finally said out loud, “All right. You can come in.”

    That’s just one moment in a book full of moments that really spoke to me about the fullness of God’s mercy and love. Loved it.

    And now I guess I better go and figure out a way to make my suitcase weigh less than 60 pounds for the trip home.

    I’m totally up for the challenge.

    Or I may just throw out anything that can be easily replaced.

    P’s pillow may be on that list.

  • If I were any more relaxed, I’d be asleep

    Have I mentioned I’m in Destin?

    This is what I did yesterday:

    Woke up.

    Put on swimsuit.

    Sat in lounge chair on beach.

    Stared at blue-green water.

    Saw porpoises (porpoi?) swimming through waves.

    Finished book.

    Listened to Dave Barnes on my iPod.

    Took a nap.

    I don’t want to sound too ambitious, but that’s pretty much my same plan for tomorrow.

    We got here late Friday afternoon and headed straight to the wedding rehearsal. It was the shortest, most expensive cab ride I have ever taken in my life.

    Kudos to you, oil prices.

    After the rehearsal dinner, we arrived at the beach house where we’re staying with four other couples. We sat out on the balcony and listened to the ocean until we were all lulled into a coma-like state and found our way to our respective bedrooms.

    On Saturday I learned a few things:

    1. Just because you’re not hot on the beach doesn’t mean you’re not getting burned on your back.

    2. If you wear a swimsuit that ties in the back and you underestimate your sunscreen needs, you will end up with a perfect, white knot and bow design on your back.

    It’s a classy look when you’re attending a wedding that evening.

    3. If you decide to make a toast at a rehearsal dinner, it’s not really the most auspicious start to say, “I’m not a public speaker, BUT…” and then proceed to talk for the next thirty minutes.

    From five pages worth of notes.

    4. Spending four days with some great friends in Destin is not a bad way to pass the time.

    5. Crab claws. Hard to eat.

    6. When I travel with P, he asks questions about things like how the planes get their fuel and if airlines contract with specific gas companies.

    Like I might have the answer.

    Umm, gasoline fairies?

    7. I totally overpacked. Apparently five pairs of shoes for four days at the beach is excessive.

    8. Your child will call and leave you a very weepy message about how much she misses you, causing much guilt and angst.

    And then when you call her back and her Bops asks her if she wants to talk to you, she’ll say “Not right now”.

    Which would have been nice to know in the midst of all the guilt caused by the earlier message.

    9. Everyone sat around last night and watched some movie called “In the Name of The King: A Dungeon Siege”.

    It featured Burt Reynolds, Ray Liotta, and Claire Forlani.

    Ever heard of it?

    That’s what I thought.

    10. When I’m on vacation I don’t really write coherent posts that have a point.

    Or an effective ending.

    Y’all have a great day.

  • Vacation, all I ever wanted

    So, I’m in Destin, Florida.

    I’m going to be honest. It doesn’t stink.

    Except that the high-speed wifi is questionable at best.

    Here are a few things I’ve already learned on this vacation.

    1. American Airlines charges $50.00 for any bag that weighs over 50 pounds.

    2. I had no idea that I could actually lift 60 pounds which is why I felt confident telling P that there was no way our bag was too heavy because if it was then I couldn’t lift it.

    3. Good news! I’m freakishly stronger than I realized.

    4. Bringing my pillows with me on vacation in an extra suitcase is clearly the most phenomenal decision I’ve ever made.

    5. Florida beaches do not look like Texas beaches.

    6. This is where I’ll be for the rest of the day.

    (This is where y’all should picture a gorgeous blue beach with white sand, complete with lounge chairs and umbrellas. It’s lovely.)

    (However, the internet here is the devil and will not let me upload pictures.)

    It’s like my being in my very own Corona commercial.

  • The great summer kickoff

    img_4639.jpg

    Our Memorial Day weekend can pretty much be summed up in one word.

    Sunscreen.

    If that doesn’t sound very exciting to you, then we’re on the same page.

    Forget gas prices, it’s the Banana Boat SPF 50 (TEAR FREE!) that’s going to eat away at our discretionary income this summer.

    On Saturday, we all hosed ourselves down with sunscreen (SKIN CANCER! AGE SPOTS! PREMATURE WRINKLING! THE OZONE IS A DISTANT MEMORY!) and headed to the neighborhood pool which was filled to the brim with members of the floatie brigade in their swimmie diapers.

    I think we all know that those swimmie diapers are nothing more than a placebo to make us feel better. They’re poop catchers at best.

    And now that I’ve thought about it in those terms, I feel the need to go bathe in Clorox.

    In all honesty, in spite of the lack of swimmie diaper effectiveness, I truly love the neighborhood pool. It provides guaranteed activity and social interaction every single day of the summer, not to mention BEAN AND CHEESE NACHOS at the snackbar. And really what makes you feel better in a swimsuit than eating a big plate of tortilla chips covered in refried beans and cheese?

    Especially when you chase the nachos with a Country Cone.

    So we kicked off our pool season in a big way. We swam, we jumped off the diving board, we went down the slide, we ate nachos. And by “we”, I mean P and Caroline. Well, except for the nachos. I participated in the nacho eating activity.

    By 6:30 that evening, Caroline could barely stand from the exhaustion. When it comes to the pool, she doesn’t ever want to stop. She’ll literally swim until her legs give out on her, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing because she will fall into bed and sleep for twelve hours.

    The problem lies in the time it takes to get her from the pool to the bed. A time that is marked by exhaustion and complete lack of reason. As we got in the car I asked, “Are you done with your lemonade?”

    “Yes, I’m done.”

    “Are you sure?”

    “YES.”

    I did the sensible thing and poured the remaining three teaspoons of lemonade in the parking lot.

    TEARS. SOBBING. WAILING.

    “I WANTED MY LEMONADE!!”

    Well, I want a sedative. We can’t always get what we want.

    We continued to have these kind of precious moments until I finally wrangled her into her monkey nightgown (NOT THE KITTY-CAT PAJAMAS! NOT THE PRINCESS PAJAMAS!!!) and got her in bed.

    And then we woke up the next day and did the exact same thing.

    Except I was smart enough not to pour out the rest of the lemonade.

    I’m officially ready for summer.