Month: May 2012

Jumping the shark

So we had a good weekend this past weekend. Even though I was so tired by Saturday night that I went to bed at 9:30. Which would make the twenty-year-old me very sad at the lameness but makes the forty-year-old me think that at least I’m not as lame as P who fell asleep sitting up on the couch at 8:25.

But we can both blame the sleepover.

On Friday night, Caroline’s school had this little fundraiser thing where you could drop your child off at the school from 6-9 for $20. The third grade teachers were the chaperones and the kids were basically treated to a dance party, craft session and running around on the playground.

Meanwhile, P and I went out on a date like real live people who enjoy conversations that aren’t interrupted by jokes heavy on the potty humor. Even though we knew our fancy night out had a shelf-life of three hours. Especially since we’d agreed that Caroline could have two friends come back to our house to spend the night.

I picked the girls up and they filled me in on all the evening festivities and then we got to the house and I made them a giant pallet on the living room floor because this is Caroline’s favorite sleepover routine. Why would anyone want to sleep in comfortable beds when you can spread an old comforter on the hardwood floors?

Since the girls were settling into the living room, P and I decided we’d watch T.V. in our bedroom. But then we remembered that we don’t have a T.V. in our bedroom because the old T.V. that used to be in our bedroom belonged to my dad and he took it back because it saved him approximately $5.00 and he is never one to walk away from a $5.00 savings.

And we currently have two televisions in the living room. The big one that we actually watch and another antiquated one that’s in the armoire we still haven’t moved into another room because we’re trying to figure out our built-in situation and evaluate our armoire needs.

(This is all a terribly boring lead in to what I’m sure you’re hoping will be an interesting story. Spoiler alert: It doesn’t get any better.)

So P hoisted the antiquated T.V out of the armoire in the living room to carry it to the armoire in our bedroom. And he nearly died because it weighs approximately 800 pounds since it was made when plasma and led screens were just a gleam in Sony’s eye. But he got it into the bedroom and then we tried to hook it up to our Dish Network remote.

Unfortunately after a highly technical method I like to call PUSHING EIGHTY-FOUR DIFFERENT BUTTONS REPEATEDLY, it still just had a snowy screen. So I tried to call Dish Network to get help but the customer service line was closed and that’s when I noticed on the website that I could get immediate help using their online chat feature with a customer service representative.

And that’s how Victor and I became BFF at 9:42 p.m. on Friday night. He helped me troubleshoot on the T.V. in the bedroom until he finally suggested that I go to the source of the problem which was apparently the T.V. in the living room. I pushed all the buttons Victor suggested and he would respond with a politely typed, “Thank you, Melanie”. And I would reply, “You’re welcome, Victor.”

But in the end, nothing worked. I could sense Victor’s disappointment and sense of defeat all the way from India. He typed, “I am truly sorry, Melanie. Your remaining option is to ask for a new remote from Dish Network on Monday.”

Which didn’t help us at all on Saturday night.

Then P went into the bedroom to try it one more time and change a few channels and mash a few buttons. And he called out, “Did you plug in the cable wire to this T.V. after I carried it in?”

No.

No I did not.

And it’s amazing how plugging in the cable wire to the back of a T.V. immediately fixes your cable problem.

I was just glad Victor had already departed from our chat session so I didn’t have to make this admission to him. He would have been so disappointed in me. It probably would have been the end of our friendship.

Anyway, in the midst of all the bonding with Victor, Caroline’s teacher dropped by to say hi. And we visited for a little while after I’d discovered I’m an idiot who doesn’t plug in cable wires to televisions and wastes hours of poor unsuspecting tech support folks’ lives. Somehow I ended up plugging in my You Curl curling iron so I could curl her hair.

(I don’t make a habit of curling my child’s teacher’s hair, but she is also a friend and is only twenty-eight years old.)

(Don’t ask me why her age matters but the fact that she’s younger than me makes me feel like I was offering a hair mentoring service.)

(It also explains why when I explained that the curls wouldn’t look like Nellie Olsen’s after they fell just a little bit that she asked, “Who’s Nellie Olsen?”)

So I had the curling iron sitting on the kitchen island when Caroline came in and pulled open a drawer looking for the ice cream scooper. And the curling iron started to fall and she tried to grab it. Fortunately, I saw the whole thing happening and knocked it away before she could make a good catch and it was just a small burn between her thumb and forefinger.

We immediately began to run cold water over it and applied some burn gel stuff that I’d bought a few weeks earlier when I had a bad run in with some juice from a pork roast. (Wow. That sentence sounds gross.) And I also gave her some Tylenol. She’d never been burned by anything before and was crying. I kept rubbing her back and telling her it was going to be okay, assuring her that it would stop hurting in just a little while.

I helped her settle back in with her friends and got them all bowls of ice cream with chocolate syrup and sprinkles because that cures almost anything. But she was having a hard time eating because the burn was on her left hand and she’s left handed. That’s when she said in a pitiful voice, “Now I know exactly how Bethany Hamilton feels. Neither of us can use our hand.”

Yes.

That’s the same.

Before I could say anything, I heard P say, “That is not the same. She got her arm bitten off by a shark, you have a small burn on your thumb.”

She pushed it too far with the post-injury drama in a bid for more sympathy.

In other words, she literally jumped the shark.
Fashion Friday: Edition the day after my day off

I know.

I didn’t post anything yesterday. Not even a random list of things like I usually do when I can’t think of anything to write about. I’m still not sure what happened. I was sitting on the couch with P lamenting over my lack of creativity and all of a sudden I decided I was tired and going to bed.

It’s like I don’t even know who I am.

But I’m back with fashion and isn’t that what really matters? Everyone is entitled to play hooky every once in a while. In fact, I let Caroline play hooky last Monday. She was thrilled until P told her that sometimes the police will come pick up kids that skip school. I believe the phrase he used was “cuff ’em and stuff ’em”.

She was a little concerned, so I explained that police are only worried about kids that skip school all the time and get into mischief. Then that night we were all watching T.V. P was flipping through the channels and came upon some segment on the local news that showed a man lying on the ground handcuffed and said, “Looks like he got caught skipping school”.

And I laughed until I cried.

But none of that has anything to do with fashion.

1. split neck gauze top

I went to lunch with my sister, Amy, the other day and she had on this top. Except hers was a navy print. Whatever. It was super cute and I knew I had to have one. It’s lightweight and just the right length.

2. daniel rainn floral blouse

This is so pretty. Love it with the white jeans.

3. chevron stripe maxi skirt

I just love this. And it’s a great price.

4. lucky in love lace dress

If you are in need of a white lace dress then look no further. This is gorgeous.

5. embroidered mexicali tanks

I bought one of these the other day because I walked in Old Navy and they were on sale for $8.00. That’s hard to beat. And they come in a bunch of great colors.

6. strapless striped maxi dress

This would be a great cover-up or dress to throw on at the beach or at the pool or at the lake. Basically, it makes me feel like I need to put on sunscreen and be near a body of water.

7. lacey lucy tank

8. judith march floral maxi dress

I saw this in a shorter version that wasn’t going to work for me unless I found a DeLorean and Michael J. Fox and some plutonium and traveled back in time. But I love it in this maxi version. Very pretty.

9. jarmila tunic

This is pretty. Perfect with white jeans.

10. shawl-collar v-neck

I have the long-sleeve version of this shirt and, I kid you not, I wear it every night and every morning. I didn’t intend for it to become a pajama top, but it is so comfortable and sometimes things just don’t work out like you plan.

But this would be a great casual top to throw on all summer with or without your pajamas. I like that it’s loose and flowy, yet still a t-shirt type thing.

That’s it for today.

Y’all have a great Friday.

And don’t skip school.
I believe this is what they call a rabbit trail

You know what I didn’t do yesterday?

Paint my barstools.

I thought about it though and I feel like that counts.

But a huge thunderstorm rolled through town on Monday night and so I spent most of the evening with Caroline’s feet somewhere in the vicinity of my ribcage. Then P decided to let us sleep in a little late to compensate for all the sleep none of us got while the thunder rolled and the lightning struck and random Garth Brooks’ lyrics ran through my mind.

By the time I got Caroline to school it was almost nine. And then I had to stop at Starbucks because CAFFEINE. After I got my coffee I came back to the house where my master plan was to still paint the barstools but I got distracted looking at painted barstools on Pinterest which, sadly, does not translate to them magically appearing in my kitchen.

And then I remembered I had to pay a few bills and answer a few emails. Then P came home early because it was pouring down rain and he can’t really work in that kind of weather. He was looking for something in the refrigerator to eat and lamented, “We don’t even have any cheese”.

He was right. We were completely out of cheese. And down to one roll of toilet paper. And I’d packed Craisins in Caroline’s lunch that morning in the hopes they would count as a fruit.

So I realized I was going to have to go to the grocery store. In the rain.

But since I was going to have to get out anyway, I decided I’d go to Home Depot first because P needed some type of wooden dowel to finish the feet for the island. I could explain the whole thing to you but it’s long and boring.

Much like this post so far.

After I found my car keys, I told P I was heading to Home Depot and he said, “Great. Will you get some giant lawn and leaf bags while you’re there?”

Which is the same thing he did when I went to Home Depot on Sunday except then it was, “Hey! Will you get me some storage containers for my tools while you’re there?”

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t want to help him out and get these things he needs. It’s just that I don’t spend much time at Home Depot. It’s a large warehouse full of tools and such. It overwhelms me.

It would be like if he had to go to Nordstrom for something and I said, “Hey! While you’re there will you pick me up those white skinny jeans?”

There are too many choices. Too many aisles. Too many kinds of storage containers in various shapes. I don’t own tools, therefore I am uncertain about the best container for them. And as for lawn and leaf bags, I thought they just grew in the garage.

But I went to Home Depot and found the dowel thing I was looking for and the lawn and leaf bags.

(On a related note, I feel like I need to confess I did not find the right storage containers for tools. And tried to convince P it was because they didn’t have any in stock. Because why would a home improvement warehouse sell things related to tools?)

Then I went to HEB and it was one of those marathon trips where my cart was piled so high at the end that I would have been embarrassed for the checker to know I was only buying groceries for a family of three instead of The Brady Bunch.

And by the time I got home it was 1:30 and it seemed pointless to start painting the barstools. So I grabbed the chuck roast I bought at the store and decided I’d try Pioneer Woman’s Drip Beef recipe for dinner because, sure, I could continue to cook hot dogs and frozen pizza every night and be THE BEST COOK IN THE WORLD but sometimes you have to take risks, change things up.

It turns out that the drip beef was delicious. To be honest, I think it needs a better name but no one asked me. It’s also a little bit spicy so keep that in mind when you make it. P took some extra Tums before bed tonight.

And so that’s why the barstools didn’t get painted but we had a delicious dinner and we have toilet paper and cheese. What’s that smell?

SUCCESS.

If you don’t count the unpainted barstools.
A little painting party

So I thought I’d give y’all an update about the progress I’ve made on the house in the last few weeks because I think at least ten percent of you might care and it’s not like I have anything else exciting going on here right now.

Here’s what I’ve done so far:

Not much.

Actually that’s not totally true. Right after Holly left I was motivated. With a capital M. And not even fake motivated like I sometimes pretend to be to make everyone around me feel good, but really and truly excited and ready to get some things done. I painted those lanterns red, ordered some word art for above the mantle, and bought some fabric for the couch and throw pillows.

I’m still waiting on the word art to show up. Meanwhile, the fabric is lying on the floor in the playroom, rolled up and covered in plastic, just waiting to be dropped off at the upholsterers. But I’m not sure when that’s going to happen because did I mention that our dog, Scout, had to spend five days at the hospital so we can enjoy him for eight more months?

And did I also mention that P’s twelve-year-old truck finally wore out and we had to buy a new one?

Being a grown up is super awesome.

We also got a few bids on fixing all the cracks in our walls (Thank you, Texas drought!) but decided the first bid seemed too high and then our second guy, Lupe, never called us back with his estimate and I’m not really excited about hiring someone who isn’t even motivated enough to call us back.

And so basically my home improvement project is the complete opposite of all those shows on HGTV where they have almost immediate results.

At least it was until yesterday.

When Holly came to visit, she made a ton of suggestions. And I loved all of them. She just has the best taste and can envision things that would take me years to figure out.

Who am I kidding? I’d never figure them out. I’d put ivy on top of my china cabinet and call it a day.

One of the things she suggested was to paint the base of the island in my kitchen a charcoal gray color. And I thought that was a great idea. I’ve wanted it to be painted since practically the day we got it and I realized that what I thought was going to be a gorgeous, dark wood stain looked more like cheap laminate. My problem was with the realities that actually come with painting a large piece of furniture.

That is to say, IT IS HARD.

The last piece of furniture I painted was the cabinet in Caroline’s bathroom and that was back in 2002 before she even existed. And I had to use oil based paint. And primer. And I still think I have black paint on my hands from that experience and lost countless brain cells. I’d paint a few drawers and then go to the kitchen and eat a pan of brownies.

It was terrible.

And so I haven’t been motivated to paint anything else. I’ve been motivated to hire someone to paint, but that requires money and taking the time to find someone who knows what they’re doing.

So when Holly suggested that the island needed to be painted, I agreed as I mentally put it WAY DOWN on my list of priorities because in what deluded world am I going to exert that much time and effort?

Here’s the island since I like to provide visual aids:

This is the prettiest side because the doors are a good wood finish.

But this is one of the sides that always bugged me. The plain flat surface looked cheap.

And here’s a picture of it featuring P’s elbow floating mysteriously in mid-air.

Then Holly posted about my house project on her blog and mentioned the island. And a nice lady named Jennifer sent me an email and told me she owns a store in San Antonio called Woodley Cottage Finds and Design that carries a brand of paint specifically for furniture named Annie Sloan CHALK PAINT. She said she would love to supply me with the paints, brushes and wax I needed to paint the island. And, not only that, would come to my house and help me do it.

SHUT UP.

But I’d never heard of Annie Sloan CHALK PAINT and was a little concerned this might all be an elaborate ruse by a ring of thieves to gain access to my home. I forwarded the email to Holly and said, “What do you think about this?”

And I received an email back from her that said, “YESSSSSSS!!!!!! DO IT!!!!! IT’S AWESOME PAINT!!!!!”

It took me a while but I eventually figured out that meant she thought it was a good idea. Then I looked a the Annie Sloan website and saw all the gorgeous colors.

I emailed Jennifer back and told her that sounded great and figured I didn’t really care if she stole my T.V. as long as she painted my island before she left. We agreed that Monday was a good day for both of us and she said she’d be at my house by 9:00 a.m.

Which meant that I spent Sunday afternoon cleaning the island so it would be free of grease and dust. It was a very humbling experience that made me reevaluate my cleaning skills. But, finally, it appeared to be ready for paint.

Jennifer showed up and we got to work almost immediately. I was prepared to lay out all manner of tarps and newspaper to help with the mess, but once she showed me the paint I realized that wouldn’t be much of an issue. Annie Sloan CHALK PAINT is water-based so you can totally drip it on your wood floors and wipe it up with a paper towel.

You can even do this a hundred times. I know because that’s how many times I did it.

But it was so easy. There was no need for primer and oil-based paint and all that other stuff I read about that stresses me out and makes me decide that everything is a color I can live with because painting would kill me. It’s all just one paint that goes on easily and dries quickly. There is no prep work required.

I repeat, there is NO PREP WORK REQUIRED.

Are those angels singing?

We’d already finished with the first coat when P came home to make sure I hadn’t been taken captive by a mass murderer posing as a kind boutique owner specializing in faux finishes and various painting techniques.

Here it is after one coat.

And here it is after two coats, but before the wax.

And here is the general wreck that was my kitchen.

Anyway, we finished the whole thing (two coats!) in just a couple of hours and then there’s a wax that seals it all in and makes it like the Superman of furniture. I would have made Mr. Miyagi proud yesterday. You have never seen someone WAX ON, WAX OFF like I did. My left arm is totally in shape for summer now.

Best of all, the island looks great. It’s not totally finished because I still need to wax one little section, but ran out of time and had to pick Caroline up from school and whip up a delicious hot dog dinner. BEST COOK IN THE UNIVERSE.

Here’s the finished island after I put the hardware back on.

And my favorite view.

I wanted to show you the whole kitchen and how great it looks, but I still have a few shelves I need to finish waxing and put back in and I bought some feet for the island that P is going to help me install. Plus, the contents of all my drawers are scattered from hell to breakfast.

But tomorrow I’m finishing the island and painting my barstools and putting the kitchen back together. By myself. Which ought to be an indicator of how easy Annie Sloan CHALK PAINT is to use.

If you’re in San Antonio, you should totally check out Woodley Cottage. Jennifer offers workshops that teach you how to paint, distress, crackle and wax furniture. I honestly learned so much yesterday that I may paint anything that stands still long enough. It will be like that time in fifth grade I got my own label maker, but with paint.

And if you want to find a store that sells Annie Sloan Chalk paint near you, check out all their stockist locations.
Tea parties, manicures and lame pedicures

Before I say anything else I just want to say thank you for all your sweet words and prayers about the loss of Nanny. It was all very much appreciated. Last week was a hard week and I was thankful for all the love.

I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned this before but Caroline has the same teacher for third grade that she had for first grade. And in first grade this teacher helped the class host the sweetest Mother’s Day Tea party for their mothers and grandmothers. Secretly, I’d been hoping that she would do it again this year and so I was thrilled when Caroline came home a few weeks ago with a little decorated invitation to the Mother’s Day Tea.

Although I would have totally understood if Miss C. didn’t want to do it again this year because it is a lot of work and I can’t even imagine how many hours she puts into the whole thing because there is a huge cake and glittery cards and actual tea and a photo slideshow that always makes me cry. Not to mention the whole herding of third graders who have the attention span of rabid guinea pigs.

When I picked Caroline up from school on Wednesday, she tried to con me into buying her a new dress for the party. She told me that she was “pretty sure” Miss C. wanted them all to wear white dresses but she underestimated my ability to text and get confirmation. It turned out that Miss C. said they should wear a fun dress, but not a white dress.

Of course Caroline still wanted a new dress but I turned her down because she has somewhere in the neighborhood of WAY TOO MANY dresses that have only been worn once. And I felt validated by my decision to not buy the new dress when she told me on Thursday night that she wanted to wear this brown maxi dress we bought on sale at Target last year. The problem is she’s grown about sixty-four inches and the maxi dress is no longer a maxi dress but more like an awkward length dress. It also looks like something from Little House on the Prairie.

Thankfully she decided on something else and we were both happy with her second choice.

The tea was Friday afternoon and it was just as sweet as I remembered. There was a slideshow and cake and everything was decorated. Caroline had made cards and written a little thing about me that not only said I was athletic but also the best cook in the universe. Which totally validates all the chalupas and sloppy joes and frozen pizzas we’ve eaten over the last few weeks because BEST COOK IN THE UNIVERSE.

Here’s my secret. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Take pizza out of box. Place on rack.

You’re welcome.

She also said that one of my greatest wishes is to see Scotland. I have never expressed a desire to visit Scotland, but I’ve also never been called athletic so I’m just going to go with it.

On Saturday morning we had the last soccer game of the season. Caroline scored two goals and played her little heart out so it ended on a good note. And then we went to the end of the season pool party even though it was only 82 degrees out with a north wind. I realize some of you call this summer but here we call it TOO COLD TO SWIM. Actually, I call it too cold to swim. Caroline and her friends thought it was perfect and they assured us all repeatedly through blue lips that the water was FINE.

Then Sunday morning we went to church and then to lunch with Mimi and Bops for Mother’s Day. Caroline had warned me not to go in her room and when we got home from lunch, I discovered why.

She’d set up a little spa just like she did last year. Her spa is very special because it’s hard to find a place that offers a soaking solution of purple glitter, cucumber antibacterial soap and Tressemme hair mousse.

I soaked my hands in the glitter while my feet soaked in another tub of water that I’m pretty sure was a combination of Curel lotion and more hair mousse. Then she gave me a manicure that can best be described as not subtle. She also believes that if a little polish is good then more is better. Even eight hours later I’m still not sure my nails are dry.

She also offered to give me a pedicure and I agreed but asked if we could not paint my toenails since I just got a fresh pedicure on Friday. I was torn because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but I also hated to ruin a brand new pedi. And so she looked my toes over and said, “Is this even a color on your toes right now?”

“Yes. I just wanted a light, natural color.”

“Oh”, she said as she dropped my foot with disdain, “Some people will never learn.”

I think I should have been offended, but instead I just agreed that my pedicure was totally boring compared to my fresh, new manicure. Of course, Cher would be boring compared to my fresh, new manicure.

And life would be boring without Caroline.

Hope you all had a wonderful Mother’s Day.
The end of an era

My grandmother, Nanny, passed away yesterday. She was 93 years old. And so I felt like it was appropriate to re-post something I wrote on her birthday several years ago.

A few days ago, Caroline and I drove to Beaumont to visit my Nanny. She has more energy and enthusiasm than people half her age. All of her friends are at least fifteen to twenty years younger than she is because as she will tell you “I don’t like to spend time with old people”. In fact, the week before we arrived she had hosted a Bunco party at her house, you know for all her young friends in their seventies.

She has always known how to stay young. I remember being in high school and walking down the street to borrow her clothes and her jewelry. I bet not too many grandmothers have a wardrobe that their granddaughters would like to wear. You don’t see a lot of fifteen year olds wearing SAS shoes with a nice paisley polyester blouse. But Nanny has always had style.

She was the first person I knew that owned a video camera, a VCR and an answering machine. In fact, Nanny called me the other day and asked “What is an iPod and do I need to get one?”

When we walked through the door of her house, it was all so warm and familiar. I can’t identify what it smells like, but it’s a part of my life. Even when we got home on Sunday, I could smell it on my clothes and in my hair. It’s the smell of home and comfort, a combination of Sir Walter Raleigh pipe tobacco, fresh cinnamon cake out of the oven and perfume. If I could buy it in a bottle, I would.

Caroline was in complete awe of Nanny’s house. There are more things to look at than you could possibly see in just one visit. She still has our old toy closet filled with toys from our childhood and books that bring back so many memories. Caroline walked into that closet, found a huge box full of more jewelry than you can imagine and said “Oh Mama, this is interesting”. It’s like a little piece of heaven on earth for a little girl, and I know because it’s where I spent so much of my childhood.

At one point, I was on the other side of the house and heard a familiar noise that made me laugh out loud. It was the sound of Samba music coming from the electric organ that Nanny has in her sitting room. I knew that it was only a matter of time before Caroline discovered it and once she did, she was hooked. I spent a lot of hours playing that same organ with my sister making up variety shows and musicals that would rival the Sweeney Sisters. We’d put Nanny’s nightgowns on our head for our hair and drape ourselves in anything we could find in her jewelry box.

One Thanksgiving when P and I drove seven hours to get to the lake house, I walked in the door and she said “Oh it makes me so sad that you don’t wear makeup anymore”. She always wants us to look our best even for seven hour car trips through East Texas. I have always thought she’s kind of like a mama cat, she likes to take all her babies and get them cleaned up just right.

The biggest thing (literally) she worries about is everyone’s weight. Gulley said she knew she was officially part of the family when Nanny told her she’d put on a few pounds. But here’s the kicker, anytime you visit she will always have your favorite dessert fresh out of the oven. It’s like she wants you to look good, but she also wants to indulge you in your favorite food. In fact, one of the first things she said after I walked in the door was that she had made my favorite banana pudding. It was so good I could’ve eaten the whole bowl. And her sweet tea is like no other you’ll will ever taste. I’d be willing to bet that the sugar to tea ratio errs high on the side of sugar. It’s like heaven in a glass.

After Caroline finally passed out from the sheer exhaustion of looking through all that jewelry, Nanny and I stayed up talking. This has always been one of my favorite things about Nanny, she’s a night owl like me (or at least like me before I had a three year old that likes to wake up when it’s still “darken” outside). When I was little she always let me stay up late with her to watch The Tonight Show, in fact the night that Johnny Carson did his last show I was off at college, but I had to call Nanny on the phone because the sound of Johnny’s voice will always remind me of those renegade nights at her house where I was allowed to stay up until 11:30.

Nanny always knows how to make you feel like you’re the most important person in the world when you’re with her. She listens to everything you say and even when I was little, never made me feel like my thoughts didn’t matter.

As she used to tell me before bed at night, “Parting is such sweet sorrow, but we will meet again on the morrow.”

I love you, Nanny. So glad you’re home.

Give Big Bob a kiss and a hug for me.