Month: July 2009

Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway

Yesterday morning, Gulley and I loaded up the kids and embarked on a road trip, the likes of which hasn’t been seen since the Ingalls family left the Big Woods of Wisconsin for the Kansas prairie.

Except we were only driving five hours to Dallas. In a car.

And I’m pretty sure Ma Ingalls didn’t have to travel with her body pillow. Of course she also made her own soap so what did she know about the struggles that come with being high maintenance?

My little apple with her travel pillow doesn’t fall far from the high maintenance tree.

This is where I have to sing the praises of the new toll road that takes you all the way around Austin. It may be the best thing I’ve discovered this summer, second only to LifeSaver Gummy Sours. I was a little confused about how I was supposed to pay the tolls because nothing seemed to be clearly marked. At one point we stopped at a booth to get some clarification on the toll-paying situation (Thanks anyway, Ray. It may help if you read over your list of frequently asked toll road questions in the back of your employee handbook.) and Will got a little freaked out because he thought we were at a car wash.

Nope, not a car wash. Just a destination for absolutely no helpful information.

But, still, toll road=GOLDEN.

Let’s just hope there’s not a $200 ticket waiting in Gulley’s mailbox when we get home.

As we made our way to Dallas, we made several stops to keep the trip interesting, including a quick bathroom stop at a very questionable Shell Station outside of Temple, Texas.

Fortunately, there were helpful instructions posted for those not familiar with indoor plumbing.

When we drove through Waco we decided to make a stop that really goes against everything we believe as good Aggies, but were desperate for something interesting to show the kids so we decided to stop and look at some Baptist bears.

Please note we’ve trained them well because they all flashed the Gig’em sign as we took the picture.

After we spent five fascinating minutes peering through a very small window to watch some bears sleep (it came as no surprise to me that they weren’t dancing), we got back on the road.

We continued on down I-35 until we saw what was the best thing I’d seen since the toll road.

Who knew that Willie Nelson had his own gas station/rest stop/bar? It’s true what they say, travel really does broaden your horizons.

And you can’t tell because I am such a poor photographer, but the kids are standing in front of a larger than life picture of Willie.

Then, because apparently I don’t get out enough, I had Gulley take one more picture of the kids and me outside of Willie’s Place.

Finally, in the immortal words of Willie we got on the road again until we reached our final destination of Dallas, specifically AJ’s house. Which, by the way, is the cutest little house I’ve ever seen and is decorated just darling in spite of the fact that AJ led us to believe she had no decorating skills and might possibly have a T.V. sitting on some cinder blocks. Gulley even told the kids that staying with AJ would be kind of like camping, so imagine their surprise when we pulled up to a fully-furnished house complete with floral arrangements.

Here’s Caroline with AJ at Wild About Harry’s where we made an essential stop for ice cream.

And here is the entire road trip crew at the end of the evening because nothing says road trip success like a picture with a giant hot dog.

We went back to AJ’s, put the kids to bed and watched “The Bachelorette” while discussing important matters about how you know a guy really likes you when he makes the effort to cook a stuffed pork chop for you. That probably makes no sense to you, but it made a lot of sense to us around 2:00 a.m.

I’ll be back tomorrow with more updates from the road.
GoodNites Bedtime Moments Winner

It’s time to announce the first winner in the GoodNites Bedtime Moments contest. Click over to my giveaways page to see who won and to find out how you could win a tote bag full of cool stuff or even a $2,000 bedroom makeover.
My iPod tis of thee

There are few sounds that always remind me of summer; ice cream truck music, cicadas chirping in the evening, and questionable salmon sizzling on the grill at the pool.

This summer I’ve added a new sound to my list, it’s the sound of P sawing holes in our attic in an attempt to let out the hot air. At the rate he’s going I’m afraid we won’t have a roof by September, just a tarp with a large fan while he stands under it with his Radio Shack thermometer and says, “Does it feel any cooler yet?”

“Nope, not yet. Check back with me in December.”

Anyway, one last sound of summer is a good fourth of July playlist. Granted, we’re not doing anything for the fourth due to my hectic week of keeping my pool commitments, but we’ll still need some good music to listen to as we think about all our friends at the beach and the lake.

Actually, we’ll probably be at the pool because rumor has it there will be both a seed-spitting contest and a belly flop contest. I don’t mean to brag (Yes I do; I totally mean to brag) but Caroline won the belly flop contest last year and we’re hoping for a repeat championship. It brings a new meaning to the old saying “No guts, no glory”.

My list is slightly unconventional because, well, it’s my list and you should all know by now that I have the musical sensibilities of a disc jockey at a junior high dance party. Plus, as much as I enjoy listening to Neil Diamond’s “America” and yelling out “TODAY!” during the chorus, I chose songs that weren’t overtly patriotic because I tried to avoid the obvious choices.

So, without further rambling (sure), here is my list of twelve summertime songs because I couldn’t narrow it down to ten because it felt like I was reenacting a scene from “Sophie’s Choice”.

1. America the Beautiful – Ray Charles

Okay, sure, this is an obvious choice, but I have to include it because it doesn’t feel like the fourth of July to me until I hear Ray sing. It’s guaranteed to make me cry every year.

2. Pink Houses – John Cougar Mellencamp

John Cougar, with or without the Mellencamp, is a fan of the patriotic song. For some reason this one is my favorite. Maybe because I once lived in a pink house.

3. Soak up the Sun – Sheryl Crow

Obviously. One summer before P and I had Caroline we headed to Port Aransas for a little vacation. I remember sitting on the ferry listening to this song and thinking this is what pure contentment feels like.

4. Vacation – The Go-Go’s

If this video didn’t make you want to be a part of some sort of all-girl water ski performance team then I don’t know if we can be friends.

5. Senorita – Justin Timberlake

Truthfully, I could make a list of only Justin Timberlake songs because they all make me so happy. I chose this one because it just feels summery to me. It’s like a cold drink in song form.

6. Summertime – DJ Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince

Because even if it’s 105 degrees outside, it’s not summer until I hear it.

7. Sing a Song – Earth, Wind & Fire

Happy. Happy. Happy.

8. Going Back to Cali – LL Cool J

Truth be told I’ve never been to Cali and you can’t go back to somewhere you’ve never been, but none of that matters. What matters is that I have always loved this song and it reminds me of summers at the beach when I was in high school, even though Crystal Beach is the polar opposite of anything in California, and by that I mean it’s not even remotely pretty.

9. Your Love – The Outfield

It reminds me of being on vacation. I think it’s because the opening lyrics say, “Josie’s on a vacation far away…”

10. Breathe – Michelle Branch

There are certain songs I just love the minute I hear them and this was one of them. It makes me want to get in a convertible and drive around with the top down singing at the top of my lungs while my hair whips in the wind. Except I can’t stand to have my hair whipping in the wind. It’s a minor detail.

11. Bizarre Love Triangle – New Order

I realize this may seem like an odd choice, given that I’ve never expressed a penchant for any sort of techno-pop, but it brings back vivid memories of the summer after I graduated from high school. To this day, I experience an odd craving for a berry wine cooler whenever I hear it. Not that I drank any wine coolers, I just knew people who did.

12. Boys of Summer – Don Henley

I used to think it said, “I can see you, your brow’s getting shiny in the sun” and I’d always think that he’d be better off to not talk about his girlfriend’s sweat issues. Only later did I realize he was singing, “I can see you, your brown skin shining in the sun” and I thought that made a lot more sense.

Let’s not even pretend that there aren’t countless great songs missing from this list. What’s on your fourth of July playlist? What song feels like summer?

And, remember as we celebrate the fourth:

Everywhere around the world
They’re coming to America (TODAY!)
Every time that flag’s unfurled
They’re coming to America (TODAY!)

God bless America. Y’all have a happy 4th!
It’s a tough job but somebody has to do it

Last night P and I were discussing our plans for the 4th of July weekend. He’s in the middle of a huge job right now and has been working long days digging holes and building rock walls, in temperatures that would make the equator feel like a refreshing garden spot, for clients who are actually picky enough to specify that they want landscaping that won’t attract bees and doesn’t have any smell.

Of course. Because who wants the annoying fragrance of nature messing up their yard?

Anyway, I told him that I totally understood if he just wanted to hang out and do very little to celebrate our nation’s independence. “In fact,” I said, “it’s been kind of a hectic week for me too and I wouldn’t mind the chance to just relax and do nothing.”

He asked, “Why has your week been hectic?”

“Well, on Sunday we had that birthday party at the pool. Then my mom was in town on Monday and we spent five hours swimming at the hotel and yesterday we had the party at Chuck E. Cheese. On top of that, I had to drive Gulley to Firestone to get her car serviced today before we could go to the pool.”

He just stared at me for a minute and said, “Wow, I feel bad for you with all your pool obligations. Your life is really hard.”

I’m not totally sure, but I think he was being sarcastic.
Chuck E. Cheese, where a kid can be a kid or get a stomach virus

Yesterday was my sweet niece Sarah’s fourth birthday. It’s hard to believe that she’s already four years old because it seems like just a few days ago that I was sitting with my sister while she was in labor as she went on and on about how easy it was to give birth to a human being. I didn’t mention the fact that it wasn’t that easy for me because I had some crackpot of a labor nurse who kept telling me I wasn’t in labor until she realized I was ten centimeters dilated.

Yes, yes I am. That’s what all the screaming has been about. I wasn’t faking.

In reality, I’m sure I did remind my sister of my experience because I am just that petty and slightly bitter about the whole thing. Even so, I am thrilled for her that her particular birth experience was basically watching “Dancing with the Stars”, getting an epidural, and having a baby. We should all be so fortunate.

Sarah’s birthday party was at Chuck E. Cheese, largely because that rat is the reason she is potty-trained. It’s all about hitting them where they live and she was willing to do anything, even something as horrible as going to the bathroom on the actual toilet, to earn a trip to Chuck E. Cheese.

Caroline was so excited about a trip to Chuck E. Cheese because it’s generally a place I avoid like the plague that can be found on every single game located therein. In fact, she asked me why Sarah always gets to go to Chuck E. Cheese and she doesn’t. I didn’t know how to explain to her that her mama generally tries to avoid all kid-themed restaurants due to all the children that eat there and the tendency of the staff to dress up as animals, so I just told her she gets to have fun doing things Sarah doesn’t get to do, like killing betta fish with a diet of pet Sea Monkeys.

As soon as we made it into the restaurant, Caroline grabbed her cup of tokens and was off in the pursuit of big, germy fun. She fed tokens into one machine after another in the quest for tickets. Her eyes began to glaze over as she discovered the high of winning a long strand of tickets and I made a note to myself to keep her away from Vegas. Thanks to her great-grandfather, she has a bit of gambler in her gene pool and apparently it’s lurking just under the surface.

After a while it was time to eat pizza and participate in all the birthday festivities. The birthday girl got a little overwhelmed by all the hoopla, but I couldn’t blame her. If a big rat in a half t-shirt with no pants walked out of a back room to sing me happy birthday, I’d be freaked out too because it would be like my 21st birthday party all over again.

Once all the kids had gotten their second wind thanks to some pepperoni pizza and pink Barbie cake, they hit the floor again to use the rest of their tokens. I followed Caroline around like a video game waitress, holding her cup of tokens and storing her increasingly large stack of tickets in my pockets.

I wasn’t sad when I realized she was down to her last two tokens. I warned her that all the big fun was about to end and she would once again be just a normal kid whose mama doesn’t take her to Chuck E. Cheese on a regular basis. We took her pile of tickets to the ticket-eating machine, which is much more efficient than the days of my childhood where you’d just pile all your tickets up on a counter while some surly teenager begrudgingly counted them.

Her grand total of 181 tickets printed out on the receipt. We went up to the counter and I showed her what she could get with her winnings. And thus ensued the most arduous deliberation process I have ever witnessed. Seriously, the jurors in the O.J. trial came up with a verdict faster than it took her to decide between a fake bug and a piece of Laffy Taffy.

Just about the time my head was about to explode, she decided on a fake plastic ring, a bracelet, and a clip for her hair because everyone knows there are no finer accessories to be found than those at the Chuck E. Cheese prize counter.

The best part is it only cost about $10.00 in tokens to win prizes valued at thirty-five cents.

I think I smell a rat.

In a half t-shirt.

But, seriously, it was a great party and Caroline told me on the way home it was the BEST PLACE EVER.

Happy Birthday, Sarah! We love you and your fondness for Chuck E. Cheese.