Year: 2010

Bibbity, bobbity, boo

Sometime last week (I can’t remember exactly what day because I have blocked it out) Caroline came home with a note in her homework folder informing parents about the upcoming literary pumpkin patch. She was beside herself with excitement about the whole thing and insisted that she just had to make a literary pumpkin for the literary pumpkin patch even though the note was quick to explain that the whole thing was totally voluntary. It’s just a fun thing that the librarian does every year because she has a lot of quiet time to sit amongst the books and think of ways to make parents’ lives more difficult.

And I know the librarian plans the literary pumpkin patch every year because we received a note about it last year when Caroline was in first grade. But that was back in the good old days before Caroline learned to read big words like “literary” and “pumpkin” and once I saw the word “voluntary” I threw that piece of paper away so fast it would make your head spin because I have long been aware of the levels of madness to which I descend when any type of craft project is involved. Dang that school for teachin’ my baby all that book learnin’.

A literary pumpkin patch, in case you’re wondering, is an event wherein one decorates a pumpkin to look like a character out of a book. Hence the words “literary” and “pumpkin”. The only conditions are that the pumpkin cannot be carved and must be smaller than a basketball. Also, each parent is limited to only three Xanax throughout the course of “helping” their child make the pumpkin.

When Caroline initially brought home the note last week, she informed me that she would like to make a pumpkin that looks like Junie B. Jones which seemed like a fairly easy choice. We’ll paint on a face, glue some brown yarn on top and call it a day.

However, she soon discovered that two other girls in her class were planning on making Junie B. Jones pumpkins and she wanted something unique. I tried desperately to think of books that feature an orange round ball as the main character, but there appear to be shockingly few that fit that description. Then Gulley suggested a spider because we could just paint it black and glue on some pipe cleaner legs. But, oh no. Caroline was not interested in a spider. A spider pumpkin clearly didn’t have the potential to push me to the brink of sanity.

So, after a weekend of much literary pumpkin debate, I finally told her Monday afternoon that she had to make a final decision so we’d have enough time to get it done. She came home from school, walked in her room to look through her books, and, after a few brief moments, walked into the kitchen triumphantly holding a copy of Black Beauty over her head.

Perfect.

I felt the blood drain from my head as I began to figure out on how earth you make a round pumpkin look like a horse head. Within seconds, I had gone to the Twitter for help and typed out a plea in 140 characters or less. And there were some decent suggestions, but no one actually offered to come to my house and do it for me.

The only thing I knew to do was to get out the black paint. I put Caroline to work painting our orange pumpkin with several coats of black paint and decided to go all Scarlett O’ Hara and think about the rest tomorrow. I also called Gulley to ask for some advice because, ever since she started teaching preschool last year, she has been known to get her craft on. She’ll try to deny it, but she knows way too much about all the aisles at Michael’s to act like she doesn’t enjoy the occasional craft challenge. Ultimately, she called a few of her preschool teacher friends and got back to me with a suggestion of one of those styrofoam cones, black Model Magic, and a wooden dowel to hold the whole thing in place.

After school yesterday, Caroline and I went straight to Michael’s to load up on supplies and then we came home to face our black pumpkin. And we got started. Right after I ate half a bag of Double Chocolate Milano cookies to give me strength.

I’ll be honest. At one point I was really concerned. I thought we were going to have to abort the entire mission and try to come up with a book that features a black bird. But slowly and surely, we actually made something that resembled a horse’s mane. And then I threw down the pipe cleaner gauntlet and figured out how to fashion some ears. My OCD cylinders were kicking in at all levels as I insisted it needed one more coat of black paint and a little touch up on the white diamond on its forehead.

But, ladies and gentlemen, we ended up with Black Beauty.

We turned a pumpkin into a horse just like we were Cinderella’s fairy godmother.

But with more Double Chocolate Milanos. And hot glue gun burns.

And possibly a pill for my nerves.
Come and knock on my door

It was 92 degrees here yesterday. Which really has nothing to do with this post. Or it may have everything to do with this post. I really have no idea since I’m not exactly sure where this post is headed. All I know is that is was hot here yesterday and I am officially over the heat. I need to wear boots. I need to feel the warmth of a sweater wrapped around my shoulders. I need to be able to drink my signature hot choffee in the morning and not break a sweat.

Dear Summer,

Go away.

Love,
Melanie

About two months ago, P and I finally broke down and ordered a new front door. It was something we had been meaning to do for approximately forever and, if you think I’m kidding, let me direct you to this post I wrote about it way back in June 2007. We are nothing if not masters in the art of procrastination around our house.

But in all fairness, it’s hard to get excited about buying a new front door. I’d rather spend the money on things like faux fur vests and new cowboy boots and some Ugg moccasins to get me through the winter if it ever shows up. And P would rather spend the money on ammo or just bury it in the backyard because he still has his doubts about any sort of economic recovery and we don’t need to be so dependent on traditional banking institutions when a coffee can buried in the backyard will suffice.

Anyway, we loved our old door. As did the termites who ultimately destroyed it.

This is the old door from the inside.

And the outside.

I told the door guy that I basically wanted the exact same door and really wanted to use the existing piece of beveled glass in the old door because it is as old as the house. Or I should say it was as old as the house. Because as he went to put it in the new door on Thursday, it totally cracked. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t since it was obvious that he already felt terrible about it.

And then it dawned on me (because I am very quick) that the new door would be made out of wood. Which meant that I could just have it stained instead of painted. It was a revelation.

So, here’s the new door with a piece of temporary plywood where the little window will be once the new glass is finished.

I know. The plywood kind of takes away from the whole look. It looks a little ghetto fabulous right now. I also haven’t hung my wreath back up because I can’t bring myself to put a nail in the door yet. But the stained wood looks so much better in the living room and kind of anchors the room.

(I say that like I know what I’m talking about. I don’t know if it anchors the room. It just looks better.)

And I still have other things I want to do in the living room. I have yet to hang a black and white picture above the mantle. I’d love to have a vintage map of Texas on the wall. I think we’d be well-served to reduce our number of deer heads down to one. But I keep getting distracted by other things I want to do. Like painting the kitchen turquoise and then not liking it and painting it chocolate brown.

Not to mention that Holly (who may or may not regret ever telling me that she does online decorating consultations) is trying to help me come up with ideas to redo Caroline’s bathroom since Caroline keeps telling me the black and white toile is “way too old-lady” for her and wants to decorate the whole thing with some sort of Hawaiian theme. Which isn’t going to happen.

And then P tells me that there’s no point in doing anything to her bathroom until we do something about the tile floor in there that is cracked and needs to be replaced. It’s all my fault because we never should have put white tile in there. It has been a thorn in my side for twelve years.

I guess my point is that sometimes y’all ask me if you missed the post where I decided on the fabric for my kitchen windows or if I found pillows for the living room or if I ever found a lampshade I liked. Always know that the odds lean heavily on the side of I haven’t gotten around to it yet because I just like to talk about things for a very long time. I enjoy the talking very much. It’s the actual doing part that kind of brings me down.

Not to mention that stores actually want you to pay for stuff like new flooring and lampshades and fabric for windows.

But if the new front door is any indication, I should be getting all those things accomplished sometime around 2013. I’ll keep you posted.

Get it?

Posted.

Because I have a blog.

(I’m sorry. I blame the heat.)

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The LG TextEd campaign is going on over at BlogHer. There are some really good posts from moms about how they handle issues related to texting. I especially like the posts on the dangers of texting and driving. DoSomething.org will donate 50 cents for every comment left on the LG TextEd posts, so you can join the discussion and make a difference, too.
She’s clearly not doing the safety dance

On Friday morning, Caroline woke me up bright and early whispering in my ear, “Mama! I see lightning outside!” As soon as my heart rate returned to levels of non-cardiac arrest, I mumbled, “No you don’t. It’s just the security lights outside”. But then I heard the rain and realized she’d actually seen lightning.

And then I secretly hoped that it would mean the field trip to the zoo would be cancelled because I totally lack the motherhood gene that allows you to love the zoo, especially the zoo with three buses of second-graders.

Don’t get me wrong. I have done my time at the zoo. We’ve even had some good times at the zoo. I think the fundamental issue is that I’ve never been very good at the proper timing of the zoo departure. We always stayed too long and by the time we got to the car, all hot and whiny and covered in melted ice cream, the precious memories of the elephants and the lions have faded away. And most of what I remember involves a meltdown and how bad the hippos smell.

Seriously. What is up with the hippos?

As it turned out, the thunderstorms were just passing through and the field trip was able to go on as scheduled but now WITH MORE PUDDLES! AND SAUNA-LIKE CONDITIONS!

I was in charge of a group of four girls including Caroline. Their teacher had given them a scavenger hunt sheet to fill out with information about various animals and things about them. Our group kept up that painful process through about five animals, but I felt my soul dying inside by the time I had to spell “mammal” for the eighth time in four seconds. Plus I realized I was the only parent who was still actually making the kids fill out the sheets which BUZZKILL.

So I ended up putting the sheets in my purse and forgot to give them back to the kids before they got on the bus. Then Caroline came home from school on Friday and told me her teacher wants the sheets back and the Ziploc bags they came in. Which I would be more than happy to return except for the fact that I threw them all away in a trashcan outside of Joseph’s Bakery after I ordered myself a celebratory hot chicken salad sandwich and large Diet Coke when the field trip was over.

Basically, chaperone FAIL.

And now I guess I have to go in and explain what happened and hope that I am allowed to chaperone future field trips even though I basically participated in the elementary school version of the Enron scandal.

In other news, my friend Paige was in town this weekend and we spent the whole day together on Sunday. Caroline and I picked her up in the morning and we met P at church. Then we all went to breakfast at Taco Garage where she got to experience the wonder that is chilaquiles for a late breakfast. After that, P knew to make his escape and the girls headed out with the sole purpose of finding Paige a pair of cowboy boots.

I am happy to report that after visiting three different boot establishments, we returned to our original destination of Cavender’s Boot City and Paige bought some boots that will cause me to have boot envy anytime I see them.

But one of my favorite parts of the day was when Paige, Caroline and I were all sitting around the food court at La Cantera taking a quick snack break. There was a little Madonna playing on the overhead speakers and Paige was kind of dancing in her seat. She asked Caroline, “Little gal, do you like to dance?”

Caroline answered, “Yes, I love to dance. I have some good moves.”

Paige said, “Oh, I’d love to see your moves.”

To which Caroline replied, “Oh, I’d show them to you but they’re too dangerous for the mall”.

Too dangerous for the mall.

I don’t even know what else to say.
Fashion Friday: Edition I can’t wear belts or headbands

I’ll just go ahead and tell you that I haven’t really shopped in weeks. Maybe even a month. First, I was derailed by the bronchitis episode and then I spent a week at home catching up on things I hadn’t done while I complained about my bronchitis the week before. And then this week just flew by with the road trip to Houston and the sleep I needed to catch up on and the T.V. I needed to watch.

Not to mention that I’ve unofficially placed myself on a spending freeze until I start Christmas shopping. There isn’t one thing I need right now. Except for maybe a few good long-sleeve t-shirts in solid colors but I can buy those DIRT CHEAP at Old Navy so that doesn’t really count as shopping as much as stocking up on necessities.

While Gulley and I were in Houston on Tuesday night (Did I mention we went to Houston? Am I ever going to quit talking about it and move on?) we spent a little bit of time checking out various outfits at Bible study. Clearly this was before the actual Bible study part began because we are deeply spiritual and would never let ourselves be distracted by a great pair of boots once we were immersed in the word of God.

But prior to that, we made note of several cute outfits and some darling boots. There were boots everywhere in spite of the fact that the temperature was well into the high 80’s. Which just goes to prove that Texas women are resilient. We are descended from hearty pioneer stock and certainly aren’t going to let the summer that will not die put a damper on our October spirit and our need to wear boots. Hot weather be danged.

Another big thing we noticed were the belts. There were several belts being worn with various sweaters and tunics. And Gulley and I launched into an extensive discussion of the belt and the pros and cons therein.

Which leads me to the first item on my list today.

1. Nylon stretch belt

I really am a fan of the belt. I think it can take a shapeless tunic and give it some structure. It can take a sweater dress from drab to fab. It can add pop to the right outfit.

However, you will never see me in any sort of wide belt unless it is slung low across my hips or something because I suffer from a condition known as waist-impaired. It’s not that I don’t have a waist as much as it is that I am short-waisted and anything that cinches in at my true waist just doesn’t work for me.

I really can’t even talk about several painful years in the mid-90’s when I desperately wanted to own several dresses from Ann Taylor but couldn’t ever make them work because the waist hit me somewhere around my ribcage.

Wait. Does that mean I’m short-waisted or long-waisted?

I’m so confused. All I know is I haven’t worn a belt since the days of high waisted jeans and braided Brighton belts with shiny silver buckles shaped like an alligator.

But if you can make it work, then I think a good belt is a great thing to own. I also really like this Westchester pullback belt.

2. Vintage floral headband

About a week ago, someone emailed me to ask if I thought women in their thirties were too old to wear headbands with flowers on them. My official answer is no.

In fact, I know several women who wear them and look absolutely darling. But, much like the belt, it’s not a look I can pull off. I’ve just never been a headband kind of girl even though I love them on other people.

Plus they make my ears hurt.

This crimson floral headband is super cute and makes me wish I was a floral headband girl.

But I think I’m more of a knit pom and splendor hat or a plaid newsboy cap kind of girl. Even though I don’t know that I’d wear either of those in reality. I just like the idea of them. The knit beanie is very Rachel Zoe.

3. Felt ruffle coat

I know I featured a ruffled coat last week, but I saw this one and it is so inexpensive and just so adorable.

Or maybe I just like that girl’s bangs.

4. Prospectress boot

I love these.

5. Yellow cable knit scarf

I love the fringe detail on this scarf and keep picturing it paired with a gray wool peacoat. Wouldn’t that be adorable?

6. Gap leggings

I have officially decided that while you can’t beat the price of leggings at Old Navy, I far and away prefer the ones from Gap. Mainly because they are as soft as butter and feel like pajamas.

7. Sequined tank top

What in the world? A sequined tank top? That is so fancy!

But it’s almost holiday season and there might be parties galore in your future. Or you may be like me and have no social calendar to speak of but what if something comes up and you end up wishing you had a sequined tank top to wear? It could totally happen.

Picture it paired with skinny black jeans and a black blazer or even a velvet blazer if you’re feeling extra fancy.

And then you could top it off with a spritz of J. Simp’s Fancy Nights perfume. And please pronounce that as FAYN-CEE.

(Also, did I just type J. Simp and leave it there? Am I twenty years old all of a sudden?)

(I think I got carried away with the sequined tank top.)

8. Haylie bootie by Chinese Laundry

Listen. These are just a party in shoe form.

9. Antique pocket watch necklace

I am loving long pendant necklaces right now and so I have spent much time on Etsy looking at all manner of them. And something about this pocket watch one just drew me in. I love the vintage feel of it.

10. Applique jersey top

I was looking for something on the Old Navy site the other day and stumbled across this shirt which says it’s only available online. Which probably explains why I’ve never seen it even though Old Navy is one of my regular stops.

But it looks so cute, comes in several different colors, doesn’t have to be ironed and costs $15.00. That’s some kind of garment trifecta. Except that it’s four things instead of three. Which makes it what? A golden sombrero?

I’ll go with that. It’s a golden sombrero.

Which means you can’t lose.

Y’all have a great Friday.

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There’s a new chance to win a $100 gift card on my Kellogg’s giveaway page. Click over there to enter.
Houston and back

So Gulley and I left for Houston around 1:00 on Tuesday afternoon. The only stop we made was at the Whataburger in Schulenburg where she ordered some chicken fingers and I had a Whataburger Jr. that was entirely too salty. I don’t know why I’m filling you in on completely meaningless details of our trip except that the massive sodium intake might have something to do with the fact that my wedding rings feel entirely too tight even twenty-four hours later.

Someone asked in the comments yesterday what kind of music we listened to during the trip and bless your heart for assuming we ever quit talking long enough to listen to anything but the sound of each other’s voices. The last few weeks have been so hectic for both of us and this was the first time we’d had in forever to have more than a few ten minute conversations pieced together in various code languages so that our little eavesdroppers don’t understand every word we’re saying and repeat it back at some unfortunate time.

Here’s a non-comprehensive list of some of our conversation topics:

good hair highlights
public school education
the upcoming elections
marriage
wearing belts
television, both reality and scripted
what God is teaching us
the holidays
boots vs. booties
our current breakfast food of choice
movies we’d like to see

I know.

It was all fascinating. And most all of these things were discussed as we bounced from one subject (the challenges of marriage!) to another subject (laundry detergent!) and then back to the original subject (marriage!) before winding up somewhere in the vicinity of what we’d like to do with our hair.

The three hour drive totally flew by and we had just barely made it to Houston before we decided we better head over to the church because I was completely paranoid about the parking situation and felt like the whole evening might be derailed if I had to find any type of alternate parking because it might mean I’d have to look at a map to find some sort of overflow lot and the whole thing just stressed me out. Fortunately, my obsessive tendencies totally paid off and we were about the second car to pull in the completely empty lot.

(On a totally unrelated note, I still have a lingering cough from my bronchitis. P told me earlier tonight that he doesn’t like the way I cough. LIKE I CAN CHANGE IT. And just a few seconds ago, I started coughing and he paused the T.V. in the middle of an Ultimate Fighting Championship fight until I stopped. As if somehow my coughing was detracting from watching the men on T.V. trying to kick in each other’s heads. Sure, my cough is the most annoying component in this scenario.)

Anyway, we had the best time. Tuesday night Bible study was amazing. Beth taught on the image of God and I’ll be processing it for days. Christy Nockels led us in worship and the whole thing was just so dang good. And her hair looked great.

And then came the moment where I became socially awkward.

After it was over Gulley and I were going to go get something to eat with Amanda. We were standing around and there was Christy Nockels. And I wanted to say something to her. Something like “I have loved your music for years” or “I listened to your song Glory Baby a million times the summer after I had a miscarriage” or “Your song Captivate Us makes me cry every time I hear it”. You know? Something normal.

Christy looked at me and graciously asked, “Do I know you? Have we ever met?”

I said, “No” and then stuck out my hand to shake her hand while I formally introduced myself like we were at a corporate business meeting.

Then I felt like I had to explain who I was or why I was waiting around, so I said, “I have a blog”.

The whole thing was very reminiscent of that scene in Dirty Dancing when Baby tells Johnny, “I carried a watermelon”.

But she was just lovely and smiled and nodded at me like I was a normal person instead of some kind of socially awkward internet-type person who sits around in my pajamas and writes stuff on the computer.

Even though, let’s be honest, if the shoe fits.

Gulley and I set the alarm for 5:00 a.m. Wednesday morning and literally rolled right out of bed and into the car. We made a quick trip through the Starbucks drive-through for some serious caffeine and drove back to San Antonio.

And, yes, we talked the whole way home.

Because, fortunately, I am not socially awkward when I’m in the comfort of my own car.
On the road

In about an hour, Gulley and I are going to hit the open road and head to Houston. Of course, by the time you read this we’ll already be on our way back home because we are giving new meaning to the phrase “whirlwind trip”. But when I heard that Christy Nockels was going to be a part of Beth Moore’s Tuesday night Bible study, I knew we had to throw caution to the wind and our kids to our husbands and hit the road.

And I’m not even going to pretend like part of the reason isn’t because I’d like to see Christy’s hair up close. She has some seriously amazing hair.

So Gulley and I are leaving the kids and the husbands behind and we’re taking a little road trip. All by ourselves. There is no telling how many problems we’ll be able to solve in the next twelve hours without a kid constantly interrupting to ask us if they can have a sixth popsicle or to inform us that Will is looking at them funny and they don’t like it and can we please make him stop and now he’s humming and it’s getting on their nerves.

Good times.

We’re going to head back to San Antonio around 5:30 a.m. because Gulley has to work and I am scheduled to speak to a womens’ Bible study group. Needless to say, we’ll be stopping at Starbucks for something in a size VENTI EXTRA CAFFEINE.

I’ll be back tomorrow with a full report of how many times we stopped at Dairy Queen and how many of the world’s issues we’ve solved. Specifically, if we believe that NeNe’s son, Bryce, really has lost his mind and if the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills have reached new levels of Botox usage. Also, I hope to have some insight regarding Christy Nockels hair and what type of product she uses.

But for now I’m leaving the computer behind because P says he needs it to conduct important internet research on various types of ammo and hunting apparel.

Y’all have a great day.