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For the last week I’ve been trying to get us ready for something we had scheduled yesterday that we haven’t done in almost six years.

And now I remember why.

Family pictures.

Let’s all have a moment of silence.

I mean, sure, we try to take a family picture in front of the tree on Christmas Eve as we’re all rushing out the door to church. And this past Easter we had a little photo session in the front yard that brought feelings and emotions out in me that made me extra thankful that Jesus died for my sins.

But I’m talking about real pictures. Taken by someone using something other than an iPhone camera.

And so I’ve spent the last week trying to coordinate outfits that work well together but don’t look too matchy-matchy. It was also important that they looked like something each of us would actually wear in real life. Because even though Caroline promised me she’d wear whatever I asked her to without complaining (See above Easter reference for when she learned that lesson.) I wanted it to be an accurate reflection of her style. And her current style isn’t so much Boden as it is Academy. However, I felt like a family picture deserved more than Nike running shorts and a stretchy sport headband from HEB.

P is easy. Plaid shirt, jeans, and boots. It’s been his “dress-up” uniform for the last thirty years and it works. Yes, it may be boring, but I promise that pictures of him from high school have stood the test of time much more than pictures of me from high school. When you fancy yourself a trendy dresser, you’re bound to have some regrets.

(I’m looking at you hot pink plaid Esprit pants worn with yellow and pink paisley shirt.)

I kept looking for the right thing for Caroline and had finally decided on a navy striped shirt with a navy cardigan from Gap that we bought last year. It seemed like the best option and I hadn’t seen anything else that really worked. But then I ran in Gap on Monday and found a cream tunic sweater that I felt would be perfect with her jeans and boots and also work with what P and I would have on.

I bought the sweater but I knew this was going to require a try-on session to make sure it looked good. And so when I picked her up from school and she asked if we could run by Starbuck for a frappuccino, I sensed the time was right to strike a deal. “Sure! But as soon as we get home, I need you to try on a couple of outfits for me.”

She’s powerless to resist the call of the Starbucks.

When we arrived home, I pulled the cream sweater out of the Gap bag and said, “Here you go! Try this on with your skinny jeans and boots.”

She crinkled her nose and asked, “Is that a turtleneck?”

“No. It’s a cowl neck.”

“Really? Because it looks like a turtleneck.”

“Well. It’s not. It’s a cowl neck. It’s a loose version that just drapes around your neck. Just go put it on.”

And so she did. Except she didn’t quite get the concept of a cowl neck and had pulled all that extra fabric down around her shoulders like a shrug and came out of her room complaining, “I can barely move in this thing. I can’t even lift my arms.”

This is what happens when you spend your whole life in assorted t-shirts from sporting goods stores.

I pulled the cowl neck off her shoulders and draped it around her neck the way God and the Gap intended. And she deemed it acceptable. I was feeling so optimistic that I declared, “That might even be cute to wear on Christmas!”

To which she replied, “Why would I want to wear a turtleneck at Christmas?”

Kids are precious.

Yesterday was the actual day and so if Easter and Christmas have taught me anything (I mean other than that Jesus loves me and came to save the world) it’s that I better have my hair and makeup finished hours ahead of time because my job on picture day is essentially to be like O’Brien on Downton Abbey. Except I’m not in as jolly of a mood.

So I showered and fixed my hair and did my makeup around noon. And then P stopped by the house to eat a quick bite for lunch and asked, “Now why are we getting family pictures made?”

“Because we haven’t done them since Caroline was four.”

“Well, does that matter? It’s not like we look at the ones we already have.”

Husbands are precious.

I reminded him that we needed to be ready to leave the house at 3:30. Then I went to pick Caroline up from school and began the process of rescuing her hair from its HEB sport headband and ponytail. I put on some lipgloss and we were ready to go and out the door at 3:30. It’s our first miracle of the holiday season.

And in the car I told them something that I may regret, but right now I mean it with all my heart. I said, “Just smile and do whatever we need to do to get some good pictures and we won’t have to do family pictures again until Caroline’s wedding day.”

Which, hopefully, is at least fifteen years away.

And even then might be too soon.

Before I even begin I feel like we all need to have a moment of silence because yesterday the Oxford Dictionary officially added “selfie” as a word.

Welcome to our future, America. A world where we’re in debt to China beyond all reason but it’s all good as long as we document ourselves pulling through the Sonic drive-through to get a Route 44 Diet Coke.

Personally, I would have chosen “champipple” to become a real word. The champagne cocktail favored by Fred Sanford. But, like most things, no one asked for my opinion.

And while I’m giving opinions no one has asked for, here’s another one. Dear Stores of America, you need to settle down about Christmas. It’s going to happen. December 25th comes every year and Americans will open their wallets eventually to buy all manner of Christmas gifts. But can we please have a minute to just enjoy the holiday of the turkey?

I felt it the day after Halloween when our neighborhood shopping center immediately had two giant Christmas trees flanking the entrance and green and red garland everywhere. And I knew it when Gulley ran into Santa Claus at HEB on November 9th and had to tell him to go back to the North Pole. But I really noticed it yesterday when I was out running errands.

My first stop was Target. And, granted, I brought it upon myself since I willingly walked to the back of the store to look at all their Christmas decorations. In my defense, it was only because I know they’ll be out of all the good stuff by Black Friday and I wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything I couldn’t live without.

(There wasn’t. Although they did have some really cute stockings.)

And then I ran in several other stores that were all playing Christmas music. Which, fine. I enjoy the Christmas music but it was 92 degrees here yesterday and so I kind of felt like Frank Sinatra was mocking me as he sang “Let it Snow”.

But the killer was when I ran in Michael’s to look for some paint for a project Caroline is working on. Here’s what I need to know. Who decided that the overwhelming scent of fake cinnamon is the official fragrance of Christmas? I became so carried away with the sheer amount of decorations and disoriented from my faux cinnamon smell induced headache that I almost put two light up reindeer with moving heads in my cart before I came to my senses and remembered that P and Caroline would probably just use them for target practice.

I ended up leaving without buying anything because I was in desperate need of fresh air. And that’s when I walked over to Whole Foods and saw a whole selection of live Christmas trees for sale. Did I mention it was 92 degrees yesterday? All those things are going to be good for by mid-December is firewood.

And even poor Santa was already sitting in his Santa house. In a red velvet suit. No one wants to sit on Santa’s lap when he stinks from sweating in his Santa suit all day.

And here’s the thing. I love Christmas. That chunk of time between Thanksgiving and Christmas brings me some of my happiest memories every year. But it’s also nice to take a deep breath that doesn’t smell of manufactured cinnamon and think about turkey and dressing and cranberries and broccoli rice casserole and all the things we have to be thankful for without being interrupted by a giant light-up Santa that says “Ho, ho, ho”.

It’s a marathon, Santa Claus. Not a sprint.

And I’ll be ready for you. A week from Friday.

You know what warms a mother’s heart?

When her ten-year-old daughter, all showered and sweet-smelling in her pajamas, announces “I’m going to run outside and check the rat traps before you tuck me in!”

Yes. This is what my life has become.

P came home on Thursday and Caroline couldn’t wait to tell him about the wildlife we encountered living outside my bathroom window. He immediately pulled out his arsenal of various rodent traps (Sadly, this isn’t our first rat rodeo.) and the two of them got to work concocting irresistible offerings with which to entice a rat and/or mouse. Basically their strategy was some Laffy Taffy left over from Halloween stuck on a glue trap.

The next day Caroline couldn’t wait to see if their traps worked. I’m sad to report she showed an enthusiasm usually reserved for Christmas morning.

But, alas, we are obviously dealing with the Yogi Bear of the rat family. By which I mean that he is smarter than the average rat. Because he has stayed away from our Laffy Taffy and our peanut butter and even some cheese. He is like John Travolta, staying alive.

Really the hunt for the rat was the most exciting part of our weekend. And that was fine with me. I was thrilled to have a weekend that involved no soccer or any other obligations. The Aggies even had the weekend off so I was able to watch college football like a normal person who doesn’t get overly emotionally invested.

On Friday night P was at the ranch and Caroline and I stayed at Gulley’s house until early evening and then picked up dinner and headed home. We watched Monsters vs. Aliens and it was as exciting as it sounds.

Then Saturday morning we slept in and spent most of the day in our pajamas. Caroline was fighting either allergies or a cold and wasn’t anywhere near her normal energy level. She built a fort in her playroom and one in the corner of the living room and was content to migrate from fort to fort as the day went on.

Later that night we had some friends over for dinner. I cooked Pioneer Woman’s braised short ribs with mashed potatoes and Mix and Match Mama’s cinnamon roll cake for dessert. It was the perfect fall comfort food meal. The only problem was it was about eighty-five degrees outside.

And that about sums it up.

Except I did make an unfortunate discovery that I want to mention. Last night I was messing around on the computer and somehow stumbled across an old google email address that I created a long time ago but never check because it’s not an address I ever use. Well, apparently, if you subscribe to my blog by email, and have ever replied back, your reply has gone to that google email address that I never check.

I can’t even tell you how sad this makes me because I try my best to respond when people email me and all of a sudden there were many sweet emails that I’ve never answered because I didn’t know they existed. I really shouldn’t be allowed to own a computer.

So if you’ve emailed me and been thinking I was so rude because I never even bothered to answer, please know I’m not rude, just technologically incompetent. From here on out I’ll try to check both email addresses unless some computer wizard can tell me how to combine all that email into one account. Or better yet, can just do it for me.

And finally, on a completely unrelated note, have any of you ever read C.S. Lewis’s space trilogy? It’s called Out of the Silent Planet (Space Trilogy)Chronicles of Narnia years ago.

But you never hear anyone say, “You know what’s great? C.S. Lewis’s books about space.” Yet, it’s C.S. Lewis. How bad could it be? Anyway, I went ahead and ordered the first one but just figured someone out there has read them and might have some thoughts. Or at least some other suggestions for a good series of books to read aloud.

In the meantime, I’ll just be here waiting to see if rats can resist the combination of Laffy Taffy with a side of peanut butter.

I just got home from eating Mexican food and need to get to bed. Fortunately, I’d already found all my fashion picks earlier today.

So let’s get started:

1. north pole cowlneck sweater

This week has made me feel like I may need a few more sweaters in my life. This is a good candidate.

2. textured knit baseball top

I keep looking at tops like these and one of these days I may actually buy one.

3. sequin dot tank top

Gulley and I had a discussion this week about the necessity of a good sparkly top to get you through the Christmas season. This is a great one to layer under a jacket.

4. candy ruffle sweater

I didn’t even know this existed until just a few minutes ago and now I’m not sure how I’m going to live without it. Free People, why can’t I quit you?

5. hue wide waistband leggings

I mentioned these a few weeks ago. They are some of my favorite leggings and right now they’re 25% off which makes them only $27.

6. suede ankle boots

A few of you asked about the booties I had on in the group picture from yesterday’s post. These are what I was wearing. They’re from Zara and I love them so much.

7. fluffy faux fur jacket

Okay, I happened to run by a local boutique the other day, saw this and immediately bought it because I just knew. I knew like you know about a good melon. It is the softest thing ever. Like the inside is made of angel wings or something. I love that I can make it dressier with skinny black pants or throw it on over a t-shirt and yoga pants.

8. knit chevron scarf

I love these chevron scarves.

9. aspen hooded sweater

This is a great sweater. I love the colors and the pattern. So cute with boots and jeans.

10. grace and lace nellie knit scarf

Remember the gameday boot socks I featured a while back? She also makes scarves. I happen to love this one.

And that’s it for today.

Y’all have a great Friday.

Last night I spoke to the PTO at Caroline’s school and it was officially my last speaking event of 2013. And there is something so nerve-wracking about standing in front of people that are part of your every day life because you know you have to see them again.

But I did it and everyone was so nice. I love our little neighborhood.

I hesitate to share this next bit of news because I don’t want to cause envy. But today I have both an eyebrow wax and a mammogram scheduled. It’s really everything I dreamed of when I was a little girl. Between that and my shoulder pain, the early 40’s are shaping up to be awesome.

Speaking of my shoulder pain, it’s so much better. It’s almost as if I had to speak it out loud for it to get better. Or maybe y’all just scared me straight with your stories of frozen shoulders and years of physical therapy and multiple steroid shots. I’ve decided that maybe I really did just sleep on it wrong.

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this, but Gulley and I eat lunch together almost every Tuesday. It’s a standing date and we hardly ever have to reschedule. Usually we meet at a restaurant in the neighborhood, but she’d asked me if I’d come over and help her clean out her closet so I picked up Popeye’s chicken for us and headed to her house.

(I feel that you might be interested to know that Popeye’s Chicken has a special two-piece Tuesday. Two pieces of chicken for ninety-nine cents. And that’s a deal because Popeye’s is the best of all the chicken.)

Anyway, we ate our chicken and caught up on current events and our thoughts on Olivia Pope and then went into Gulley’s bedroom to evaluate the state of her closet beginning with fall and winter clothes. And I got so tickled because it’s safe to say that I’ve seen her wear the majority of clothes she owns, but she would pull out various items, hold them close to her chest and say, “Before I show you this I need you to know that it’s really soft and I like this color.”

It was like clothes’ therapy. And apparently I’d be a terribly unsympathetic psychologist because I’d give it a once over, tell her I hadn’t seen her wear it in three years in spite of the fact that we see each other almost every day and move it towards the Goodwill pile.

We also discovered that I’m not the only one holding on to a Texas A&M sweatshirt from days of yore when people felt that a real sleeve needed to be at least ten inches wide.

What were we doing in the mid-90’s that required that level of sleeve girth? I don’t understand. Maybe it’s because that was back when we were young enough to move our shoulders around with wild abandon.

And then she brought out something that I can only describe as a tragedy.

This is a sweater I featured on Fashion Friday about a year ago.

Here’s the problem. I liked it because in the picture on the website it appeared to be tunic-length. Like you could wear it with leggings.

I think we can all see that no one should wear this sweater with leggings. It’s like one of those cropped sweaters we wore with our high-waisted jeans back in 1992.

After I finished laughing, I confirmed with Gulley that she had not inadvertently washed and then dried this sweater causing it to shrink beyond all decent knitwear. And she hadn’t. This is what it looked like when she took it out of the package.

So the question becomes why on earth did she keep it?

I’ll tell you her reason.

Because it was too hard to return it.

I don’t even understand.

Naturally I’ve now insisted that she run all new purchases by me and in the unfortunate event that she orders something else off the internet that comes in the size of a dust rag, I will help her pack it up and ship it back.

It’s just too bad we couldn’t take a little of the extra material from the sweatshirt sleeves and add it to the bottom of that sweater.

Except what it would gain in practicality, it would totally lose in any type of fashion appeal.

Well I hate to put a damper on your Monday morning with this news, but I’m pretty sure I have bursitis in my right shoulder. It’s either that or I have somehow aggravated my rotator cuff. I know this because I just spent five minutes on WebMD after I googled “My shoulder hurts. Why?”

The bigger question may be why I didn’t just google, “Why does my shoulder hurt?”

Whatever. The bottom line is I have a shoulder problem. In fact, I have woken up around 4:30 a.m. every night for the last week because my shoulder hurts so bad.

So after my extensive research on Google a few minutes ago, I informed P, “I have bursitis in my shoulder. Or maybe a rotator cuff injury.” And he looked at me blankly for a minute before he replied, “Or maybe you just slept on it wrong.”

“What? Slept on it wrong? But it’s been bothering me for a week. Like waking me up at night.”

P said, “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. You’re sleeping on it wrong.”

“How do you know I haven’t incurred some sort of injury?”

“From what?” P asked.

“Um. Smart Barre. I felt something pull when I lifted those three pound weights the other day.”

And then he just shrugged his healthy shoulders and said, “Or you slept on it wrong.”

I feel like my malady isn’t getting the respect it deserves from anyone except WebMD. And the worst is yet to come because I’m a little afraid it’s going to hurt to blow-dry my hair and I’ll have to resort to sleeping in sponge rollers or something. Or maybe a sock bun.

Anyway, other than my shoulder, there’s not much to tell from this weekend other than that it was awesome because it was so low-key and involved a lot of relaxing and staying in pjs.

On Friday night, P headed to the ranch for the evening and Caroline and I went to eat Italian food with Mimi and Bops. Normally we do Mexican food, but Caroline doesn’t love Mexican food like we do and requested Italian. I know. I don’t understand either, but she’s ten and I’m hoping she’ll grow out of it.

And while we’re talking about Italian food (because we technically are) I made a discovery last week. It’s something I’ve long suspected, but now I know for sure. I met a friend at a Greek restaurant here in town and I have confirmed that I do not really care for Greek food. I also don’t enjoy Indian food. I’ve decided that the problem is the various spices. They’re too strong for me and it’s like I can’t really enjoy my food because the smell is stronger than the taste. Does that make sense to anyone but me?

Apparently I am an American through and through. With a sophisticated palate that enjoys Popeye’s fried chicken but not a gyro.

(This same phenomenon also occurs with certain seafood dishes. I enjoy the fish as long as it doesn’t really smell like fish.)

Saturday morning we slept in and spent the morning drinking coffee, watching Gameday and just hanging out until it was time to head to Gulley’s house to watch the Aggies play Mississippi State. I’m happy to say that we pulled it out, but I still have some questions and concerns about our defense. Especially in light of the fact that our last two games are against LSU and Missouri. It’s a good thing I kept my lucky Aggie Football sweatshirt.

And then we woke up for church Sunday morning. Actually, my shoulder woke me up. (I don’t know if I mentioned that it’s been bothering me.) We went to church, picked up breakfast tacos, and rested until it was time for Caroline’s last soccer game of the season at 2:00.

After the game we came home and I showered and put on my pajamas because I felt like it was the middle of the night only to realize it was actually only 4:30. This is pretty much the story of my life during daylight savings time. Not that I’m really complaining.

Oh and I almost forgot this high point that came while we watched LSU play Alabama on Saturday night.

God bless college football.

And, more importantly, God bless our veterans. We are grateful for your service to our country.