Year: 2009

Travis Cottrell Giveaway Winners

Oh my word. It is a lot of work to pick twenty winners. All the counting just about did me in, but it was totally worth it because twenty of you are about to get the best worship CD ever in the mail in just a matter of days. Thanks so much for all your comments!

And even if you didn’t win, you’re still a winner because “Jesus Saves Live” officially drops today. You can download it here on iTunes or order a copy by clicking here. I promise you will love it! LOVE IT.

Here are your random numbers:

433 393 212 241 138
56 39 83 294 236
91 281 346 177 512
251 104 337 200 531

433 – Colleen @ lifeswellspring.blogspot.com
393 – Fonda with a hotmail address
212 – Jamie @ carlosandjamie.blogspot.com
241 – Bonnie Novak
138 – Wendy with a hotmail address
56 – April with a yahoo address
39 – Tara @ 2dewdrops.blogspot.com
83 – Kendall @ livingtheprocess.blogspot.com
294 – kimberly @ bowlingfamilymoments.blogspot.com
236 – Kelly with a gmail address
91 – Heather Enright
281 – 3msmama
346 – Shalana with a hotmail address
177 – RIchele @ msn address
512 – Kellie O’Gorman
251 – Angie @ flibbertigibberish.blogspot.com
104 – Becca with a yahoo address
337 – Bonnie Detar
200 – Kristi @ kristi-kikiscorner.blogspot.com
531 – Tarah Hoffland

Congratulations to all the winners! If your name is on the list, please email me with your mailing address at [email protected] and put “Travis Cottrell Winner” in the subject line.
I thought about using a Jeopardy format but wasn’t sure how it would work

It is so wrong that today is June 1st and yet I still have to send Caroline off to school for four more days. Someone please put this school year out of its misery. I’m especially bitter today because we stayed at the pool until 8:00 on Saturday night, came home and put Caroline to bed, and had to WAKE HER UP at 8:20 a.m. Sunday morning so we wouldn’t be late for church.

If not for the fact that we had to worry about last night being a school night, we would have been well on our way to establishing the perfect summer schedule.

But enough about my problems.

Let’s talk more about me.

Over a month ago, I wrote a post and mentioned that y’all could ask me questions in the comments. Then I spent the weekend in New Orleans and then I took a week off the blog and then I just completely forgot all about it until a few people emailed me and asked if I was ever going to answer those questions.

Truth be told, I didn’t remember that there were so many of them. I’ll answer a few today until I see something shiny and get distracted. Then if I remember, I’ll answer some more in the next few weeks.

Okay, the most frequently asked question was:

“Okay,my question is this. I wonder why you tell us your name and your daughter’s name but all we get with the hubby is a capital ‘P’. Is he a secret service outdoorsman?”

Yes. He is a secret service outdoorsman. Our secret is out.

“Do you and P plan on having more children (naturally or by adoption)? Has Caroline ever asked for a brother or sister, or does she like to have the whole spotlight to herself?”

This is a complicated answer filled with many layers like an onion or a parfait. The short answer is we don’t know. We are a happy little family of three and life is easy with a five and a half year old. She can make her own sandwiches for crying out loud. It’s just a matter of time before she’s doing the laundry to earn her keep. Why would we want to start over with a newborn that will require a significant portion of our income to be spent on diapers for the next three years?

Because of the chubby legs and the cheeks and the way they smell. And the onesies. That’s why.

So my official answer is it’s not necessarily in the plan but I’m good with whatever God has for us, however that may look. His plans always end up being better than mine.

(I don’t want to leave the impression that it’s a fertility issue because P could pretty much wink at me across the room and I’d get pregnant. At least that’s how it worked six years ago)

As for Caroline, yes she asks for a SISTER. And YES, she likes to have the whole spotlight to herself.

How do you eat all the junk you eat and stay thin? Do you work out tons? Eat sensible foods that you don’t blog about? Or is the love of guacamole and corn dogs just a clever facade to make us identify with you more?

I would never kid about my love of guacamole and corn dogs. I’ve always had a beautiful, meaningful relationship with both of those items.

Truthfully (and don’t hate me) I’ve been blessed with a pretty dang good metabolism, although it is with deep regret that I inform you it is starting to let me down as I venture later and later into my thirties. However, I do watch what I eat and eat junk food in moderation. Well, except for when I have PMS and there isn’t a piece of chocolate or a bag of Doritos that is safe for at least five counties.

As for exercise, we have a love/hate relationship. I love the way it makes me feel, but I hate doing it. There are people who talk about a runner’s high or whatever. Yeah, I don’t get those people. Which probably explains why the “30 Day Shred” has turned into the “52 Day Shred” and I feel like I’m going to throw up every time I hear Jillian Michaels say, “Are you ready?”

Because NO I AM NOT READY. I will never be ready.

Unless we’re talking about chips and queso because then I am always ready.

I feel bad for people who don’t watch “Lost” in a weird sort of way because it’s probably the best TV show ever written in the history of mankind. So would you just consider renting the first season and watching if for me?

No, but thanks for asking.

I’m sure it’s a lovely show but I prefer my television shows to be realistic. For example, finding the love of your life among twenty-five contestants during a six-week journey through various hot tubs, helicopter rides, and private concerts by Martina McBride.

How hard or easy was the decision to leave the outside work place and be a stay at home mom?

I spent ten years carting around Olive Garden to doctors’ offices in the rain, snow, sleet and hail (not really on the snow and sleet) only to listen to complaints about how I forgot to bring enough Diet Dr. Pepper for everyone. I sat in countless boring meetings where everyone seemed to be excited about lipoproteins and blah, blah, blah except for me. I lost hours of my life I’ll never get back attempting to fax sheets filled with scotch-taped receipts that did not care to be wedged through a fax machine and rebelled by becoming completely indecipherable to the accounting powers that held my reimbursement fate in their hands.

It was not a hard decision to leave.

Except for the nice salary, sweet insurance and free car.

Free gasoline? I think I miss you most of all.

In all seriousness, it was a decision that was one of the hardest of my life because it was a step of faith to walk away. We had no idea what the future would hold but we knew it was the right time for me to leave.

As for being a stay at home mom, I think we all know that I’m just in it for the glamour and the opportunity to clean my own toilets.
Bang, bang, bang on the door baby

I had an appointment to get my hair cut this past Wednesday, but in spite of all the hair wisdom y’all shared last week, I was on the fence about whether or not to get bangs.

So Tuesday night I turned to P, sighed loudly and said, “I don’t know what to do about my hair.”

(To his credit he turned and looked at me like he was actually interested.)

“What do you mean?

“Well, I don’t know if I want to get bangs or just leave it alone.”

“What do bangs look like?”

“What? What do you mean what do bangs look like? They look like bangs. Like this.”, I said as I pulled a few pieces of very long hair across my forehead in an attempt to create the illusion of bangs.

“Yeah, that doesn’t really help. Tell me the pros and cons of bangs.”

(For the record this entire conversation never would have happened if there had been ANYTHING on T.V.)

I listed the various pros and cons of bangs with involved details regarding humidity, frizz, and an unfortunate cowlick. Finally P said, “Haven’t you gotten bangs before and then regretted it immediately?”

“Yes. But it wasn’t so much immediate regret as 48-hours-later-regret.”

“I think you have your answer.”

He is the cool head of reason in the midst of all my turmoil.

And also the wind beneath my wings.

Caroline went with me to the beauty shop on Wednesday because I’d scheduled back-to-back appointments for us at her request. When we got there she informed me that she wanted to go first. It was too late when I realized this was so she could spend my entire haircut experience asking, “How much longer until we leave?” while simultaneously complaining about being hungry in spite of the fact that she bogarted about six Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies before we left the house.

Amazingly, her hunger totally disappeared the minute our hairdresser asked her if she’d like a piece of Laffy Taffy. Of course everyone knows that there is nothing more filling or satisfying than a bite-size piece of taffy.

Anyway, Caroline was first up in the chair. I told our hairdresser I wanted her to cut Caroline’s hair a little bit shorter than usual, like maybe to right below her shoulders. Now that it’s almost summer (ALMOST being the key word. Dang you Department of Education.) and all our days will be spent at the pool, I don’t want the nightly drama that naturally occurs whenever there’s a comb and tangle-free spray involved. Oh the humanity of a mother who believes in good grooming.

I was a little worried that Caroline would freak out, but when she saw herself in the mirror she got a big smile on her face. About that time my hairdresser said, “Do you want me to cut bangs or just leave it all one length?”

After pausing for a minute I said “Just leave it”, but then Caroline looked up at the hairdresser and said in a calm, even voice, “I WANT BANGS.”

She dared to go where her mama was afraid to go.

So for the first time since she was three years old, she has bangs.

There are no words to describe the amount of sassy she feels with her new look or how many times she’s admired herself in the mirror, but when I asked her to pose for a picture with her new bangs this is what I got.

I think it’s safe to say she feels no bang regret.

And I don’t know if she’s ever looked cuter.

As for me, I got two inches trimmed off the back. She obviously didn’t inherit her hair courage from me.

Of course I don’t think she got it from P either considering his hair hasn’t changed in the fifteen years I’ve known him.

She is a coiffure maverick.

Y’all have a great Friday.

(On a totally different note, I’d totally forgotten that I never answered any of the questions that y’all asked in the comments of a post I wrote over a month ago. My goal is to answer at least of few of them sometime next week because I believe it’s good to have goals.)
When old friends literally become OLD friends

When P and I first started dating, lo these many years ago, it wasn’t too long before he introduced me to all his oldest friends. In fact, I remember attending one of their weddings pretty early in our relationship and then going with a group of ushers and groomsmen still decked out in their tuxes to see “Braveheart” at the movie theater while I hoped I was making a good impression as the new girl.

(Dang. We are old.)

I must have made a good impression because about four months later we were all sitting around a huge dining table on Thanksgiving night when someone asked, “P, are you going to marry Melanie? What’s taking you so long?”

I never knew a room could suddenly get so quiet.

I’ll tell you what wasn’t quiet, P’s truck on the way home as I cried and asked him why it took him so long to come up with an answer. Bless his heart.

They have all known each other forever so when they all get together it immediately turns into a game of “remember when”. For example, “Remember when what’s-his-name shot a hole through the floor of your Bronco? That was HILARIOUS.”

However, some of their fondest memories from days of old seemed to revolve around a place they actually refer to as Squalor. Apparently, there were good times to be had at Squalor, which was a ratty old deer camp where Jay and Scott’s daddy let them stay when they were down at the ranch.

Can you believe I married a guy who used to self-admittedly hang out in a place called Squalor?

Yeah, me neither.

During the last fifteen years, we’ve gotten together with varying degrees of frequency depending on who is living where and if there happens to be a wedding shower, a wedding, or a baby shower. And there have been MANY of those over the years.

Which explains why we found ourselves at the lake on Sunday surrounded by about fifty kids of varying ages all decked out in Spiderman and Barbie lifejackets.

Early last week, Jay and Dawn called and invited us out to the lake to celebrate Jay’s 40th birthday, which has to be a mistake because FORTY? Seriously? How are we old enough to be friends with people that are turning forty?

We jumped at the chance to go because we haven’t all gotten together in a sweet forever, despite our constant promises that we’ll all get together soon. Our friend George used to say that Jay never grasped the concept of object permanence, meaning that unless an object is right in front you, you forget it exists. Apparently, as we’ve married and had kids, we all struggle with that concept. I believe it’s directly proportional to sleep deprivation due to infants and maybe drinking too much Lone Star Light when we were in college.

Not that I drank Lone Star Light.

I was more of a Zima kind of girl. Because I like a classy beverage.

Anyway, after church on Sunday we headed out to the lake. When we arrived, Jay came out to greet us wearing black socks that came to mid-calf with his tennis shoes. I was so relieved when I realized it was a joke because for a moment I really believed that we were just minutes away from spending an afternoon sitting on the porch while we discussed our artificial hips and that garbage the kids call music these days.

It took Caroline all of about 2.4 seconds to get her suit on, get in the lake and find a new best friend. Our friends Scott and Caroline have a four-year-old little girl that equally matched Caroline’s daredevil ways and they were like peas and carrots the rest of the day.

This is Caroline getting into the unbelievably frigid water for the first time.

She’s never been one to let a little hypothermia keep her from having a good time.

When Caroline was an infant, I agreed that I’d do most of the diaper changes if P would promise to always be the one to swim with her in freezing cold water. At the time, it seemed like he got the better end of the deal (literally) but now that she’s five, completely potty-trained, and is training for a future as a member of the Polar Bears Club the pendulum has swung in my direction.

So while he treaded water in an attempt to keep the blood flowing to his legs, I sat on the dock in the warm sunshine and enjoyed this view.

Here’s Caroline with her new friend. P played a game with them all afternoon where he’d capsize their floatie and call it a sinkie. (I married him for his looks and his creativity!) He kept thinking they’d get tired of it, but clearly he’s never had to play Candyland for eight hours straight.

At one point, P looked at Scott, Jay and George and asked if they could have imagined when they were all sitting on this dock as high school boys with a penchant for getting in their share of trouble, that one day they’d be sitting in that same spot as the fathers of seven daughters and three sons.

God has a sense of humor.

Later on, the little girls did some tubing. The squeals echoed from every corner of the lake.

Then, later, they took turns jumping off the dock.

Hello future track scholarship.

I think her legs grow about three inches while she sleeps every night.

Finally, with blue lips and chattering teeth, they admitted they were freezing and ready to get out of the water.

Don’t let her fool you. She only stayed that still for about two minutes before she took off running for the house as soon as she heard the words “time for birthday cake”.

She comes by it honestly.

We went inside to sing Happy Birthday to the birthday boy (birthday middle-aged man doesn’t have the same flair) and as I looked around the kitchen I felt blessed by all the years of friendship represented in that room and the fact that we can all get together and just pick up where we left off as if no time has passed at all. That’s a gift.

I’ll tell you what else was a gift. The birthday cake. It was maybe the best cake I’ve ever had. Chocolate with chocolate icing covered with a thick layer of chopped Heath Bar. I honestly can’t quit thinking about it. In fact, the next time I bake a chocolate cake I’m going to beat the heck out of some Heath Bars and try to recreate what I believe to be one of the culinary masterpieces of our time.

The whole day couldn’t have been better. I believe Caroline summed it up best when we told her it was time to go home and she looked at us with teary eyes and announced, “I am the saddest girl in the whole world”.

I don’t know where she gets the drama.
Episode 16 Big Boo Cast

Several of you (at last count at least two maybe even four) have emailed and asked for a new podcast. If only you knew all the podcasts that have been recorded only to have technical difficulties. In fact, last night when I told P I was going to podcast with Sophie and Travis, he told me he’d never seen three people waste so much time for something that never sees the light of day.

Oh, but we showed him because not only do we have a podcast up and ready to go, it is chock-full of some of the most trivial and random information a person could find in one convenient location.

In fact, I can’t even remember what all we discuss, although I know the original reason we did it was to talk to Travis about his new CD. Needless to say, we veered off course.

Way off course.

Anyway, it’s not like there’s anything good on T.V. so if you want to spend an hour of your life that you’ll never get back listening, you can click here to listen. Or here.
Summer at (and in) the movies

Let me just say that it goes against all laws of nature and fun to have eight days of school left after Memorial Day weekend. I don’t know what genius at the Board of Education came up with this plan, but sir, it was a bad one. I am over making ham sandwiches at 7 a.m. every morning, especially since Caroline informed me that the sweet little notes I put in her lunch box aren’t exciting enough anymore and, in her words, “need more pictures and better stuff on them”. Apparently she and her friends are tired of the same old flowers and smiley face.

Wow. Tough crowd.

The sad part is that I actually let a bunch of Kindergarten hecklers influence my note-writing efforts and what once was a simple morning routine has turned into a daily art project that causes me to get out Sharpie markers in an array of colors and attempt to draw rainbows and bunnies. If there weren’t just eight days of school left, I might eventually be forced to break out the glitter pens.

Anyway, we had a great Memorial Day weekend filled with everything a holiday weekend should entail. Eating out, swimming, making a movie, going to the lake, and more swimming.

Did you catch the part about making a movie?

Gulley called me last Friday morning and said that her oldest son, Jackson, was making a movie about superheroes in their backyard at 11 a.m. on Saturday morning and had requested that Caroline be there in her Wonder Woman costume. Well, HELLO, yes she’ll be there. It could be the big break she’s been waiting for!

Of course when I called Gulley later in the day to confirm our Saturday film schedule, Jackson answered the phone. He informed me that we needed to be there at 11:00 but filming wouldn’t begin until 11:53, and also, his mom didn’t have time to talk on the phone right now because they were going on a walk.

Directors can be so bossy.

Caroline spent Friday night with Mimi and Bops, so I went to their house about 10:30 a.m. to get Wonder Woman ready for her big role. She even brought me the teasing comb so I could make her hair “REALLY FLUFFY” like Wonder Woman. I called Gulley to let her know we were running a little bit late due to all the hair maintenance because I didn’t want Caroline to get a reputation as a diva with no respect for filming schedules. That’s the kind of stuff that can kill a career.

(You know the other thing that can kill an acting career? Killing John Wayne in a movie. I learned last night that when Bruce Dern killed John Wayne in “Cowboys” that it practically ended his career. Don’t mess with John Wayne.)

(Have I ever mentioned that my head is filled with countless bits of random and totally useless trivia?)

When we arrived, Jackson pointed us to a list of rules for the day.

Translation:

“Do not make noise or talk in video.

Superheroes will not cry or get mad at another superhero.

Have a good day.”

He runs a tight ship.

And he knows his cast well.

All the starring superheroes milled around the backyard without much purpose or direction for the first thirty minutes. Jackson kept trying to tell them what to do but they didn’t really pay attention.

Welcome to what it’s like to be a parent. It’s all the preparation you’ll need for a career in herding cats.

I think Wonder Woman’s costume designer didn’t realize that she’s grown about seven inches taller since Halloween, although she did manage to make some lovely arm bands using only aluminum foil and scotch tape.

Jackson finally got their attention and began rolling tape. (I know A LOT about the movie industry, including phrases like “roll tape”. Or maybe I just heard it on a Bush Beans commercial. I can’t remember.)

The superheroes are off on their mission to rid the world of evil.

What? What’s that? Is there something behind the tree?

In a surprise twist that no one saw coming, other than the fact that we all watched him pick up some plastic swords and tie a cape around his head, Gulley’s husband, J, turns out to be the villain.

The superheroes chased him out from behind the tree and began to attack.

(I’m really no good at action photography, or really any photography, which explains the blurry shots)

Like all fierce villains, he carried not only three different swords, but also the dreaded rubber snake in his back pocket.

But he was no match for the homemade Justice League. They got him down.

The boys grabbed the swords while Caroline “whoop-ed” him with her golden lasso of truth, also known as some gold drapery cord from Bed, Bath and Beyond.

J did more than his share of Ninja rolls across the backyard as he tried to escape. In fact, I’d be willing to bet an ice pack and some Icy Hot were his friend later that evening.

The most suspenseful part of the whole film was when the two-year-old Incredible Hulk found a 2 x 4 in the backyard and decided he was going to show these big kids what real weaponry is all about. Fortunately we saw the whole thing happen before it turned into a scene from a WWF match.

After filming wrapped, Gulley served as a makeshift Kraft Services and had Dino Nuggets, cookies and juice boxes waiting for everyone. Then we hooked up the video camera to the T.V. so they could all watch their creation.

It was akin to watching a Super Hero version of “The Blair Witch Project”. I haven’t felt that dizzy since the last time I waited until noon to drink a Diet Coke.

But the kids LOVED it. They laughed, they cried, they gave it two thumbs up.

In fact, Gulley turned to me and said, “Why on earth do we pay $8.00 a piece to take them to the theater when they’re so entertained with this?”

I foresee a summer filled with microwave popcorn, a videocamera and possibly the occasional 2 x 4. Granted, it may be hard for J to keep explaining that he needs time off work to accommodate his burgeoning film career, but in the long run it will be worth it because if Jackson grows up to be a famous filmmaker we can sell bootleg copies of his debut effort, retire in style, and travel around the United States in a tricked out Winnebago.

I mean, I’m pretty sure this is how Steven Spielberg started out and that whole movie he made about a shark turned out to be kind of successful.