Year: 2007

  • Love and sleep will keep us together

    This weekend was all about catching up on some much needed rest. By Friday, I had a raging case of PMS combined with sleep deprivation, due to the fact that Caroline likes to call me into her room at all hours of the night to play a game I like to call “Find It”. I hear her call over the baby monitor, I stumble into her room in a sleep stupor to make sure she’s okay, and discover the only issue is that she would like her pink bunny and can I please find it.

    Oh sure, Mama wasn’t doing anything except trying to get in a REM cycle. The pink bunny is much more important.

    She has a special knack for picking things that are invariably at the bottom of the toy box. I think it’s all part of some big master plan to cause me to lose my mind due to lack of sleep, so that by the time she’s a teenager, I’ll just sit in a corner and mumble incoherently.

    And I know many of y’all might say I shouldn’t go in there, but I’m a sucker for the nighttime calls because I was the original bad sleeper as a child. I’m always afraid that maybe this time something will really be wrong, and she’ll need something other than Squeak E. Mouse from the bottom of the toybox.

    Mercifully, she spent the night with Mimi and Bops on Friday night. I’d like to tell y’all that I actually stopped the car to unload my child and her suitcase, but truth be told, I think I just came to a rolling stop and tossed everything out the car door. There is only so much patience for someone who keeps you up all night and then spends the next day telling you that she’s not going to be your friend anymore, “not at Easter, or springtime or nothing”.

    And really that’s fine, I have plenty of friends. I’m also willing to bet that I’m going to hear that phrase many times throughout her life, because the bottom line is I’m supposed to be the mama, which by default means I often won’t be her friend.

    Anyway, Friday night I went to bed and slept for ten glorious, uninterrupted hours. I woke up and actually got to sit and read the paper. It was like heaven.

    Then, P decided to take Caroline to the ranch for the day. Oh merciful God in heaven, do your blessings ever end?

    They left and I spent the rest of the morning cleaning up around the house, tossing a few Happy Meal toys in the trash, reading a book, and taking a long, hot shower without anyone waiting for me outside the shower door and asking me a barrage of questions to monitor my shower progress. I blew dry my hair, I put on makeup, and I started to feel like a real, live person again.

    Later that afternoon, I went over to P’s sister’s house to celebrate P’s mama’s birthday. P and Caroline met me there and she came running in, excited to tell me what a great day they had even though they didn’t shoot anything. Then, that night, after she was bathed and in her jammies, I held her close to me as we sat on the couch and told her “You’re the light of my life” and she said, “Oh Mama, you’re my best girl”.

    And the best part was, the absence had made our hearts grow fonder and for that moment, we were friends again.

  • Smells like teen spirit

    This morning, I woke up and stumbled into the bathroom to wash my face. As I looked in the mirror, I saw my reflection staring back at me. Braces on my teeth, a huge pimple on the end of my nose impeding my peripheral vision, and hormones raging inside.

    This is why you never hear anyone say “Man, I wish I could be 13 again”.

  • What is up there on top of the tree?

    It’s a blog party. A big blog party. Big blogs, little blogs, red blogs, blue blogs, yellow blogs, green blogs, black blogs, and white blogs are all at a blog party! What a blog party!

    Can y’all tell we read a lot of Go Dog Go! around here?

    Let me tell y’all a little something about myself. Ever since I first read about the blog party, I have spent way too much time wondering what on earth I could post about to properly convey a party like atmosphere. I mean, how do you serve chips and guacamole via the internet? Do I tell everyone to meet me back here at 5:30 p.m. central standard time so that we can all make a big bloggy toast and drink margaritas at the same time?

    That certainly wouldn’t be fair to the folks on the West Coast because it would only be 3:30 there, and for those who work it’s been my experience that most companies frown upon drinking in the office…well, unless it’s a Christmas party…or maybe if it’s a blog party. Anyone want to test that theory?

    Probably not.

    Of course, it only makes sense that I would spend so much time wondering what to post, because if this were a real life party I can guarantee that I would spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about what to wear. I have spent way too many hours of my life worrying about what to wear to certain events, and now?

    It’s so rare that I get to go out that when I do, I go through more wardrobe changes in my closet than a Versace fashion show. Because if I’m wearing something that will actually be seen by grown ups, in a restaurant other than McDonalds, I’m going to find something cute to wear and make it count.

    So, if you’re new here…welcome to Big Mama’s party. I can guarantee that you’ll never know what you’re going to get when you come here, because I never know what I’m going to write until it comes flying out of my head and onto the computer screen, but you can rest assured that in any given week I’ll cover everything from poop to my neighbors, from my family to God. And sometimes, I even talk fashion trends.

    It’s what I like to call a mixed bag.

    I know…the mind boggles.

    So with that, I’ll leave y’all with a clip of Caroline and let me give the disclaimer that for some reason the sound and audio don’t quite match up. It’s a little like watching Ashley Simpson on Saturday Night Live.


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    Y’all have to admit the girl has a knack for the knock knock joke. There’s no doubt where she gets her sharp, witty sense of humor.

    Thanks for stopping by. Really, everyday is a party here so come on back anytime.

    And now, I’m going to go visitin’.

  • Step away from the grab-its

    In my opinion, one of the greatest inventions of the 20th century was the Pledge Grab-it. Y’all know what I’m talking about, those little electromagnetic cloths that catch all the dust? Some people use the Swiffer version, but they all serve the same function of getting dust and dirt off your floor that is barely visible to the naked eye.

    We have all wood floors and I have a child and a husband that like to play in the dirt, so needless to say my floors get dirty. I sweep in the kitchen once a day since that’s our biggest high traffic area. Then, after I sweep, if I really want to give the floors that extra something special, I will use the Grab-its.

    I know that everyone is on the edge of their seat to see where this post is going.

    Me too.

    We have a housekeeper that comes every other week. I realize that I am blessed to have someone to clean my house twice a month, and truly I am grateful for those Fridays that I know the house will be really clean through no effort of my own. It’s like a little present all wrapped up with a big bow.

    She is actually more like a member of the family, seeing as how she is the same housekeeper that P’s mama has used since he was a little boy. In fact, at this moment, she cleans P’s mama’s house, his sister’s house, Mimi and Bop’s house and my house.

    We like to keep it all in the family.

    Anyway, every other Friday, Cata shows up, drinks her coffee, listens while Caroline talks her ear off and then starts cleaning the house. Here is where the problem lies.

    Cata is a Grab-it-aholic.

    She opens up the first pack at 8 a.m. and by 8:45 has burned through it like she’s in a race to rid the world of all electromagnetic dust cloths. By 10:15, another stash of Grab-its has literally bit the dust and at 11:00, she’s asking me to go to the store to buy more Grab-its.

    Cata has a fever and the only cure is more Grab-its.

    My home is not that dirty.

    No one’s home is that dirty.

    I’m afraid Cata is giddy with the dust wielding power of the Grab-it and it’s time for us to take a step back and re-evaluate our cleaning arsenal. At this rate, we’re not going to be able to afford to keep her because keeping her supplied in Grab-its is taking a huge chunk of our savings, and if we’re going to be blowing through money like that, it needs to go to a good cause, like new summer sandals.

    However, since I am such a confrontational person, I haven’t had the nerve to just say no. Cata asks me for the Grab-its and I continue to be an enabler. But it’s got to stop.

    I asked P’s sister if she has had a problem with Cata’s Grab-it abuse and she said no, because at her house Cata became all strung out on the Windex wipes. Her advice was to hide the Grab-its in a secret spot, which has helped her cure Cata of the Windex wipe addiction.

    At this point, I’ll try anything. I’ve just got to get her down to one pack a day.

  • An attitude of gratitude

    I am a little behind on my television viewing, which makes me realize that I really need to re-evaluate my priorities. Anyway, on Sunday, I recorded all the Academy Award pre-show festivities so that I could watch them later, and then by the time I got Caroline into bed, I just wanted to watch the actual awards and skipped through all the other stuff.

    I watched the Academy Awards and felt like something was missing, which I later realized was due to the fact that I didn’t watch the Barbara Walters special beforehand. It’s just not the same if you haven’t seen a celebrity cry on Barbara’s shoulder right before the show. Thankfully, I had a little spare time last night and was able to get all caught up on the celebrity display of waterworks.

    Her first interview was with Ellen DeGeneres. I really like Ellen DeGeneres. I remember seeing her on Comedy Central when I was in college and thinking she was hysterical. I love her dry humor, her warmth and her style. And don’t even get me started on how much I love her as the voice of Dory in Finding Nemo.

    Anyway, Ellen was talking about the ups and downs of her career and her life. She has had some huge successes, but she’s also had some really painful things that have happened along the way. At one point in the interview, they showed a clip of her first appearance on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson where she did a thing about calling God on the phone. I remembered seeing it years ago and it was great.

    At the end of the interview, Barbara Walters asked Ellen what she would say to God if she really could call Him on the phone and Ellen got very teary-eyed (of course, it’s Barbara Walters) and said with such sincerity, ” I’d say thank you. I’ve got nothing but gratitude. My whole life, I’m so blessed. I’m so lucky and I feel it every day”.

    Her words convicted me so much that I turned off the T.V.

    I don’t know what Ellen’s religious beliefs are and that’s not the point. The point is her overwhelming gratitude at the life she has been given. She recognizes her blessings and it made me ask myself if I’m as quick to recognize all of mine, or do I let myself get consumed with the other things I want?

    When I pray, which is really the same as a phone call to God, how much time do I spend thanking Him for all He has already done in my life? Do I tell Him that I realize He’s blessed me more than I’ve ever deserved and honestly, if He never did one thing for me other than sending His son 2,000 years ago to die on a cross, that’s more than I could ever repay?

    I would never call up my friends every day and say, “Let me tell you what you can do for me today” and I’m betting if I did, it wouldn’t be long before they started screening my calls. If someone does something nice for me, I am quick to tell them thank you, after all, that’s just good manners. I’d never say, “Well, that’s nice, but if you really want to help me you could…”.

    As a mama, I spend lots of time reminding Caroline to say thank you. I tell her that’s what nice people do, we say thank you when people do something for us so they know that they are appreciated.

    Why am I so quick to tell the cashier at HEB thank you for the Buddy Bucks, but so slow to tell God thank you for giving me the air that I breathe, the family that I love, the friends that I adore, and the life that is so much more blessed than I deserve?

    I never thought I’d say that watching a Barbara Walters special caused me to have a spiritual revelation, but it did. Ellen’s words made me take a look at myself and caused me to stop and just tell Him, thank you.

    “Some wandered in desert wastelands, finding no way to a city where they could settle.

    They were hungry and thirsty, and their lives ebbed away.
    Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress.
    He led them by a straight way to a city where they could settle.
    Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for men,
    for he satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things. “

    Psalm 107: 4-9

  • BM…doesn’t just stand for Big Mama

    I really don’t want this turn into a forum that discusses nothing but my daughter’s bowel movements because I’m assuming that would cause many of y’all to go away and never come back. And understandably so.

    It just seems that lately, we have had an abundance of poop at our house. In fact, we haven’t had this much poop since the time Caroline was about eight months old and I fed her strained prunes because I was afraid she was constipated, and then made a serious miscalculation and put her in the johnny jump up.

    For the record, laxative inducing fruit products and jumping…not a good combination.

    The other day we were over at Gulley’s house playing and Caroline started calling for me. I went in the bathroom and she had pooped. We took care of business and then she went running back into Jackson’s room. She was so proud of herself and yelled “Jackson, I just had poop and my poop is BISGUSTING”.

    And she’s right, her poop is disgusting. However, I think it will serve her well as she grows older to realize that you don’t necessarily want to share this information with your boyfriends.

    Then, today she was outside playing and had an accident in her pants. Let’s just say that her new Hello Kitty underwear became Goodbye Kitty in the blink of an eye.