Year: 2008

Next up: P will pull a rabbit out of his hat

Wow. I don’t just have a few ideas for books for my vacation, but for the rest of my life. I think Karen Kingsbury was the clear winner. Her publisher couldn’t have come up with a better way to get some free P.R.

Anyway, I headed to the library this afternoon and chose three books for my trip. I’m not going to tell y’all what they are, but I will let you know my thoughts as I finish them. I’m really not trying to be all secretive but I’m afraid that I’ll share my choices and then get about twenty comments telling me it’s a horrible book and how I will hate it with every fiber of my being which will cause me to become horribly jaded before I ever even begin the first chapter.

I can’t handle that kind of pressure.

Just know that two of my choices were recommended in the comments and the other I chose on my own. Also, none of them are by Karen Kingsbury because I am a rebel at heart.

Seriously, thanks for all the suggestions. I’ve already read several of the suggested books which served as some sort of validation that I’m not completely out of the literary loop, in spite of the fact that In Style magazine is what is most often on my bedside table.

Of course I’m not entirely sure that the Shopaholic series counts as literary greatness, but the first two books in the series did make me laugh out loud at a time when I was completely sleep-deprived and hanging on to my sanity by a thread because Caroline was about three months old. However, after the third book in the series, I reached a point where I had a hard time believing anyone could continue to be that fiscally irresponsible.

And that is a strong statement coming from someone who regularly overdrew on her bank account from 1990-1994.

So, now that the book decision is settled, I’m trying to get everything else ready. I spent the rest of yesterday doing laundry and buying travel-sized toiletries at HEB. I am a sucker for travel-sized toiletries. I bought things I don’t even use at home just because they were available in little bitty bottles.

Then last night as I was cooking dinner, P and I began discussing a few details of our trip. I told him I had borrowed two big suitcases from Mimi and Bops so we’d have plenty of packing room. He informed me that he wasn’t going to take one of the big suitcases because why would he need all that room?

Here are the respective bags we will be taking on our trip.

No, that’s not a carry-on. That’s what P is taking as a suitcase.

Apparently I am married to the David Copperfield of packing.

This was the ensuing conversation.

“You can’t just take a backpack. You have to pack your suit.”

“Well, I’ll just put my suit in your suitcase.”

“Um, NO. THERE WON’T BE ANY ROOM.”

“How much are you packing? We’re going to be at the beach. What will you possibly need other than a bathing suit?”

“How long have you been married to me?”

“Seriously, how will you fill all that space?”

“Minimum five pairs of shoes, hair products, multiple outfits, and vast amounts of beauty products. I require maintenance. In the words of Dolly Parton, ‘It takes some effort to look like this’.”

Eye roll.

Not him. Me.

All I know is I’m not taking up precious room in my suitcase for his suit. He’s going to have a heck of a time getting out all the wrinkles after it’s been stuffed in a backpack for the better part of six hours.

Although I may still bring the other suitcase because I could totally fit my three favorite pillows and a sound machine in it, which would officially make it THE BEST VACATION EVER.

And if there’s room for his suit among my pillows, I’ll consider letting it in.
For those of y’all attending She Speaks

If you are a blogger and are going to She Speaks, then head over to Lysa Terkeurt’s blog. She has a Mr. Linky set up so that you can enter your blog information.

It’s a great way for everyone who is attending to connect before the actual conference. Plus, you may find some great new blogs to read.

Also, since the attire for the conference is business casual I’m planning on doing this week’s Fashion Friday on what exactly that means. Here’s a hint: No cut-offs or sombreros.

Although sometimes a sombrero does have a way of adding that extra something special to an outfit.
I hear that reading expands your mind

This Friday P and I are heading to Florida for a little vacation. One of our former students from Campus Life is getting married and he asked P to perform the ceremony.

In case y’all didn’t know, P is a true renaissance man. Not only can he landscape your yard, but he is also a licensed minister which comes in very handy for those folks who may want to increase the curb appeal of their home and renew their vows at the same time.

Happens all the time.

Anyway, we’ll be in Florida for several days. Days that will involve staying in a house right on the beach and sleeping in until whenever I dang well please.

I know I’ll miss Caroline but I honestly don’t think she’ll notice I’m gone, what with all the chocolate donut consumption and unlimited swimming that will take place at Mimi and Bop’s house.

So I’m going to have a lot of time to just relax and, if memory serves, there is nothing better to do while lying on the beach than to read a good book. I mean I’m bringing my computer with me, because it is a part of me with its happy little apple that glows at me night and day as if to say HELLO FRIEND!, but I don’t think computers and sand are a good mix, so I’ll need something for the beach.

I went to dinner with my Bible study group last night and we discussed a few good books. Actually, they discussed a few books and I just nodded my head because I haven’t read anything since the television writers came back from being on strike and who needs books when there are new episodes of “The Office”?

The girls talked about “The Red Tent” which is loosely based on the Bible story of Rachel and Leah. It is about how women would all congregate in the red tent during their time of the month. I haven’t read the book, but I think the red tent is a brilliant idea.

Why don’t we do that now? Why not throw us all in a hotel room somewhere with a bellman sliding constant trays of Ghiradelli Double Chocolate Brownies under the door? Just stock that room with some kleenex for all the irrational crying and a couple of cases of Midol. Oh! And maybe some of those sock’em bop’em giant foam bats like George and Weesie Jefferson hit each other with during that episode where they went to marriage counseling. We could all eat our chocolate, cry, and then beat the heck out of something with those bats to channel our inner hormonal rage.

That would be golden.

None of this is my point, by the way.

I need a few good books to take with me to Florida. The only catch is that I’m not really interested in learning anything. I’m looking for light reading that will make me laugh or cry or both over the course of a few days.

And I don’t like mysteries or anything scary.

I have enough of both residing in my refrigerator.

Since I’m asking y’all for book recommendations, I’ll give you one in return. The last book I read was “The Middle Place” by Kelly Corrigan. I adored this book. In fact, I wish I hadn’t read it yet so that I could read it on vacation. It’s the true story about the journey the author takes after being diagnosed with breast cancer at 37 years old with two young daughters, but it’s wrapped up in stories from her childhood and especially her relationship with her father. It’s beautiful.

So, now it’s your turn.

What do you suggest?
The great summer kickoff

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.
I am fearfully and wonderfully made

Last night I finally got Caroline in the bathtub after a long day of sun and swimming. I let her play in the water for a few minutes and then said, “Okay! Time to wash your hair.”

“I don’t want to wash my hair.”

“We have to wash your hair because you went swimming today.”

“But I DON’T WANT TO!”

“Too bad. It’s getting washed.”

I scrubbed her little head and rinsed the shampoo with clean water while she closed her eyes and leaned her head back.

When I finished rinsing she opened her eyes, looked at me and said, “Mama? I need to ask you a question.”

“Okay, baby. What’s the question?”

“Why did God make you so bossy?”
We named her lopsided Lola

Caroline and I spent part of the afternoon making puppets out of brown paper bags. It’s all part of my SUMMER OF CRAFTS initiative and I figured Memorial Day weekend was a good time to kick it off.

I got out all our craft stuff, which is basically a plastic shopping bag from Michael’s filled with markers, dried up glue, scraps of yarn, and googly eyeballs in various sizes.

We got to work, gluing and drawing our little puppets to life.

And then I noticed that Caroline was using pom-poms on her puppets.

“What are those?”

“It’s their boobies!”

I hate to be critical, but I think the one on the end could use some kind of cosmetic surgery.

You know, just to even things out.