Don't worry. This post will not be one of those typical posts where I give you a re-cap of my holiday experience and fill you in on the 18 pounds of dressing I ate. Far from it. In fact, I lost weight over Thanksgiving. Seriously. I lost 12 pounds.
What? You don't believe me? Why not? Have I ever lied to you? Or is it we've just come to a bloggy understanding that I am not one of those girls that drop weight over the holidays as much as I am one of those girls that not only gains weight but require that those around me gain weight as well? Yeah...I would agree with that.
How was your holiday? Was it good? Please leave me a comment and tell me if you had a nice holiday. Do not, however, leave me a comment and tell me about anything you ate. If so, I will have to throw up right into this chocolate pie I am currently holding in both of my hands.
So here was mine, in a nutshell:
Wednesday I took the kids to a nursing home with a basket full of homemade cookies. (Oh, c'mon!! You don't believe this either? I really did.) I remember going to the nursing home every Wednesday morning at 10am with my mom when I was growing up and singing for the seniors, so it is important to me that Remi and Rocco get a small taste of "doing unto others" before we bombard them with more toys than a third world country come Christmas time. It was really a sweet time even though Remi asked a third of them to "please get up out of bed, I'm here to give you cookies!"
Thursday was Thanksgiving. For the first time my mom let me take charge of the menu. I felt very sure that I had pulled off a deluxe meal until just before we ate and I noticed there was:
a. no turkey
b. 3 things of sweet potatoes
c. 41 desserts.
She said she felt like she oughta take the reigns back next year and give me time to mature into my position. Whatever.
Friday I went Black Friday shopping. I have never done this in my life. It was both my first and my last time to do it. There is no sale, no sale whatsoever, that is worth waking up at 4am and perusing around time with bad breath and eye boogers. (And I'm talking about Meridith, Michelle and Lisa - my shopping partners. Not me, of course.) They looked terrible!
Saturday was spent very much like Sunday. We did NOTHING!! And it was AWESOME!! And I enjoyed doing it so much I plan on doing it next Saturday and Sunday. Oh, except that we put up a tree and hung our stockings and felt that small twinge deep in our hearts that this year will not be a tender Tennessee Christmas like it has been the last many years. But then I saw Rocco's eyes when he woke up from his nap and saw the tree lit up for the first time and I forgot whatever it was I was moping about.
So yeah, all in all - I'd say I was blessed this past weekend.
We didn't have the most money in the world.
Our tree looks a little like Charlie Browns.
And I forgot to ask someone to bring the turkey.
But I'm still feelin' pretty doggone thankful.
Nov 30, 2009
It Was All Good.
Nov 25, 2009
Pardon My Lame Excuse.
Pardon me for being so lazy in posting this week. But for a minute there I completely forgot it was Thanksgiving.
I forgot what it was about.
I forgot what it was for.
I forgot how to give it.
You see, I moved this past summer and I have just been so...
Okay, the truth is, I moved almost four months ago. The boxes are unpacked and we are receiving our mail. Our house, though small, is beyond perfect for us. It looks like us and smells like us. The screen door is always banging against the frame because someone is always stopping by for a movie or tacos. Or just to talk. Our home is welcoming and warm. It provides comfort and love as well as shelter and warmth. Therefore, I have no excuse.
However, I do have two kids...
Yeah, I'm gonna stop right there. Lots more people have lots more kids. Besides, mine are healthy, happy and whole. They sleep through the night and take a 2 hour nap a day. They eat their green beans and when they fight nothing bleeds or has to be stitched up. They both walk without assistance and have a healthy set of lungs on them. They call me "mama" and I call them "blessings." Therefore, I have no excuse.
The AG has been working a lot...
Does that count for something? Would that serve as a good excuse to my laziness? My apathy? Maybe not. Maybe I should stop right there and think about this time last year. When our hearts were unsettled and our minds were racing, God had something new for us - but what? And now, one year later here we are. In a job he loves and feels good about. A job that provides insurance and a paycheck. And I feel blessed to have both in this day and age. So again, no excuse.
Of course with all this family around me I feel like I barely have a moment to...
Okay, let's not even go there. I spent the last 15 years of my life wondering where we would spend Thanksgiving and how in the world we would afford to get there. I think I cried every single holiday season I missed them all so much. And today, well, today I spent the afternoon cooking in the kitchen with my mom and my Granny. I know where to buy the best black pepper (from a black lady who lives in a log cabin, hmmmm) and why a lady we know, who recently got married, couldn't find a man for 47 years. I tasted their dishes and they tasted mine (and then added more salt). I wouldn't have traded a minute of it. Therefore, no excuse will work.
So what is my excuse? I don't have one.
I am selfish.
I am spoiled.
I am lazy.
And I am embarrassed.
And so today, one day before Thanksgiving, I think of this song. And find myself in every line. How about you?
I hope this Thanksgiving you lay aside every excuse, and remember that you are loved.
I'm thankful for that.
Nov 19, 2009
HA! Fooled ya.
Nov 18, 2009
How Do You Solve A Problem Like Newsweek?
I'm not one to make too many political statements. It's not because I don't have any thoughts on the subject, I do. I just don't know how to state my point very eloquently. And also, the first year I was legally able to vote I voted for Ross Perot, so I feel to some extent I should forever remain silent on the subject.
I mean, I make little comments here and there like: "Wow, how about that Health Care Reform. (long pause) No seriously, can someone explain to me what Health Care Reform is."
Oh, and just the other day I made a comment about Nancy Pelosi and how even though I am proud she is a woman in office and all that we are women hear us roar crap I can almost guarantee you that this would be the kind of woman that were she to teach my English and Grammatical Language class my Freshman year of college my head would have spun around and I would have ditched a lot of class. Seriously, is she annoying to anyone else?
See how fancy I can be?
So pardon me for not being super grandiloquent, comprehensible and magniloquent on the picture above when I say: WHAT THE???
Are you kidding me? I mean, I'm no Sandra Day O'Connor or Dianne Feinstein but give me a break here Newsweek. Are you really wanting me to believe it's okay that you took a photo from a completely different photo shoot and used it for your own cover? Your own nationally recognized political cover?
Granted, I am not personally friends with anyone who has ever graced the cover of Runners World magazine nor do I ever intend to be (nor do I trust runners in general), but I do know the difference between right and wrong - and this beez wrong.
But if I'm hearing you correctly - and I think I am - then that means the next time Joe Biden is photographed at Lowes pricing toilets then we can expect to see him on the cover of newsstands with your caption reading THE REAL JOE THE PLUMBER. Cool!
Or if Madeline Albright were to be photographed at a Krispy Kreme with jelly donut running down her chin we would just plop that picture right on the front and title it, "SHE'LL EAT YOU FOR BREAKFAST." Really? Madeline Albright? Really? Yeah, I thought not.
But what I'm waiting for, what I'm holding my money back for, is the day they show John Edwards on the cover with his shirt off.
Dick Cheney posing with a gun....in his tighty whitey's.
Or Senator McCain in a pair of roller skates.
But they would never do that.
Because they like those men. And they hate her.
Sarah, I am not your biggest fan nor am I your harshest critic. But even I know that's wrong.
And I voted for Ross Perot.
Your thoughts? Give 'em up.
Nov 17, 2009
Randumb.
Nov 13, 2009
Nov 11, 2009
Are We Absolutely Sure This Wasn't My Mother?
First of all, Thank You. Thank you all.
The tips and advice and words of wisdom you all gave me concerning Rocco's penchant for getting up 12, 13 times a night were priceless. You may think I only got 13 comments but I assure you I did not. There were comments aplenty on my Facebook page and then there were my family members who feel they should email me directly due to some of the inappropriate comments they tend to leave ("like what" you ask? Like this, "Melissa, the last thing you need to be doing is getting up and down from off the floor, you're back is already so week because your boobs are too heavy. Less salt might help!")
I plan on trying several of them, maybe, if I get up some courage, or energy or my spanking spoon breaks in half (yep, the very same one from TN! It's like my licence or my Eat Mor Chiken gift card, I never leave home without them). I'm kidding. I don't spank him - he's only one year old. He's still a little small for all the power that my heaving bosoms can direct his way.
On another note...
My mom was M.I.A for about three hours on Saturday. She said she went to Target.
I think she went to Tampa.
Motorist, child OK after vehicle slams into 1,500-gallon tank
updated 12:33 p.m. CT, Tues., Nov . 10, 2009
TAMPA, Fla. -
Airport officials say 36-year-old Yamile Campuzano-Martine lost control of her truck and drove into the saltwater tank outside the American Airlines baggage claim Monday night. Airport spokeswoman Brenda Geoghagan said the driver had an unrestrained
About 90 percent of the 30 to 40 saltwater fish in the tank
Nov 10, 2009
Super Nanny Is Probably Really Super. We'll See.
So several months back I wrote this post about a tricky situation the AG and I were going to soon find ourselves in; family of four moving into a 2 bedroom cottage, kids (ages 1 and 3) having to share a room, bunk beds are in their room, whattodowhattodowhattodo. Remember?
So we moved into our humble abode a few months back and I kept thinking to myself, "Oh, I have got to write a post on how well the kids are sharing a room and how well Rocco is doing on the bottom bunk and how no one thought it could be done and how everyone told me to keep him in his crib but how I - a parenting genius - can do the impossible, etc., etc., etc."
Thank God I never wrote that post.
Because oohhhhhhh how I would be eating vast amounts of crow right about now.
We have lived in Snow White's house for almost three months now and not once have we had a problem..........until Friday night.
And then, suddenly and without warning, Rocco learned how to get out of his bed.
And open the door to his room.
And escape from Alcatraz.
And by Sunday evening I was TiVoing all the episodes of Super Nanny I could find.
Apparently she has some really swell solution for things like this. She says that in order to get a child to stay in their bed you should put them in their bed and say "goodnight." Then you should sit on their floor, turned away from them, and when they get up you should put them right back in their bed without saying a word, until eventually they wear themselves out and fall asleep.
And to this I say? DOES THIS WOMAN HAVE NOTHING ELSE TO DO WITH HER NIGHTS??
It is almost 10 PM and I'm not gonna lie people, I'm tired and my back is killing me. And maybe I'm not reading the signs right, but he shows no signs of slowing down. None. None at all. Zero. Zip. Zilch.
I have one of those plastic rails on the side of his bed so he can't fall out, but lets be honest, falling out of his bed is the least of his worries. He has a sister who has all but held his head in the toilet and made him beg for life; I assure you a little tumble out of bed is a piece of cake for this brute. Besides, it doesn't stop him! It's like watching Micheal Scofield in an episode of Prison Break. I suppose I should just do what the experts say and let him free, if he loves me then he'll eventually come back to me. Right?
In the mean time I'm stuck in the middle of the floor in my kids room. Something stuck to my foot that was wet and I could have sworn I just heard several tortured toys scream, "C'mon! The little girls not in here yet - let's make a break for it!"
Ahhhh well. I suppose I shall just sit here quietly, with my back turned from my little man, waiting patiently for him to disobey so that I can get my old arthritic self back up off this floor, put him in his bed again, plop back down on the floor and then hit the REPEAT button all over again.
At least that's what the Super Nanny says. And at this point, I'm going with anyone who has the word "Super" as their first name. Oh wait, I have to go...there is someone standing behind me breathing heavily in my ear. Either I'm about to be the victim of a serial killing or Rocco wants to see me try to get up off the floor again.
Nov 9, 2009
FaceBook, Fried Dogs and Frenemies
Nov 5, 2009
Live To Die Another Day, Corny Dog.
Once upon a time there was a little Corny Dog, given to a little boy, by his mother who firmly believed that health, nutrition and wearing your pajamas until 1PM were vital to his development. This little boy was also teething so please quit being so judgemental on his wet clothes.
But just when Corny thought it was safe, little boy got hungry again. And who needs condiments when you get the crunchy flavor left over from daddy's muddy shoes.
But not that special. For little boy decides to have another go at it.
The end.
Nov 4, 2009
Our Very Own Tiny Dancer.
Sometimes you blog about something not because you want to, but because someone asks you to.
And hey, I gotta give the people what they want.
So today I am blogging this silly little post not because I necessarily want to hurt my mother - because let's be honest, I don't. But because several members of my family want to hurt her. And if you can't "be there" for family then really, what is it all for?
So here goes.
Oh, and mom, this hurts me more than it hurts you.
Uh....
How do I say this?
Do I just come right out and say it?
Okay, I'll just come right out with it...
My mom looks like Elton John.
And I'm not the only one who thinks so. Other people have said it, too. So now you know it's true. And it's not like she looks like him all the time; I wouldn't go that far. I mean, when she goes to the grocery store she looks just like any other woman who enjoys a good pair of capri pants and knee highs.
But when she plays the piano...she looks just like him.
For several reasons, really:
1. When my mom plays the piano - she really plays the piano. She gets all into it, moving her head and grinning from ear to ear.
2. She wears glasses. But not just your average pair of reader glasses, oh no. Last I saw she was interchanging her lion print glasses, her colorful YSL glasses and then there's the one pair that has miniature palm trees on them.
3. And last but not least...............................her arms. She has these really short arms. Really short. Did I mention they're short? Really short. Not like dwarf size or anything, and not so short that if you saw her in the grocery store you'd say, "Hey lady, can I help you reach that box of cereal on the top shelf" or anything, but short. And when she starts throwing them around while singing Ain't No Grave Gonna Hold My Body Down and banging on those keys, well, it just makes you think of Elton in his I'm Still Standing days.
Which is why the first time my cousin Jimmy came to church he saw my mom playing the piano and leaned over and whispered to his wife, "You know who your Aunt Net looks like?" and she replied, "Yes, Elton John. We all do." To which he replied, "Yeah...that's pretty freaky."
And herein lies the moment my family has been waiting for me to write about. Like I said, gotta give the people...
A couple of weeks ago as we were sitting around discussing which one of us would wake up at 3am and throw the newspapers for my Uncle Donald while he is in the hospital my mom preciously volunteers herself.
Keep in mind this is the same woman who is on a first name basis with all the highway patrol in the 75904 due to her driving record. (Let's just say: It ain't shiny.)
Here is what we heard from those sitting around the table:
Meridith: "Aunt Net, you can't throw the route, you'd have to get up at 3AM. You don't wanna do that."
Bubba: "Aunt Net, it would be too hard to come back home and get Mallory ready for school."
Me: "Mom, you don't even know the exact route - it would be too hard to learn it at this point."
My dad: "Anette, I don't want you driving around town at 3 and 4AM."
But when all else fails, leave it to your mother to really tell you the truth:
My Granny: "Annette, how do you expect to throw those papers with those little bitty arms? You could never do it!"
Sorry, mom. I know this hurt. But I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues.
That wasn't really necessary, was it?
Nov 2, 2009
Hallofrigginween.
Was it Halloween this past weekend?
I hadn't noticed.
So let me tell you what it's like experiencing Halloween in a new town where you know very few people.
IT ROCKS!
Not.
So the AG and I are attending a church that was having some kind of Halloween shin-dig at various houses around town - but we didn't know where any of them were, nor did we know any of the people hosting them, nor did we know any of the people going to them. And I'm sorry, but I am not going to a Halloween festival at someones house that I don't know when it is very likely that at some point one or more of my kids will vomit, poop, break something or hurt someone and the host will likely look at me and be like, "Uhhhh...hello mamma, are you gonna do something about your child?" And then I'll have to be all, "Uhhhhh...no. I've tried."
See? It's just too much.
So this Halloween we went to the Houston Zoo Boo where upon the moment we entered they posted signs that they were out of candy. Try explaining the "no candy" thing to a 3 year old Tigger.
And of course there was hardly anyone else there. It's like we had the whole zoo to ourselves. I think normally the park holds like 3,000 people and there were only about 47,000 people so, yeah, it was comfortable.
And the weather? Glorious. It was October 31st for pete's sake. So 80+ degrees sounds reasonable. Right? Try explaining 80 degree weather to a one year old in a 12 pound Pooh outfit.
Oh, and speaking of Tigger and Pooh outfits - you should have seen them. They were so cute. Of course I have no proof of this as I forgot my camera in the back of the car! The AG promptly told me how "disappointed" he was that I forgot the camera. Hmmm....it's funny he didn't mention how "thrilled" he was though at the fact that I did remember: wipes, hand sanitizer, diapers, one sippy cup, a bottle of water, an umbrella, the keys to the car, his sunglasses, a stroller, some chapstick, his contact lens solution, goldfish crackers, two trick-or-treat pumpkins and a fork that my son refuses to leave home without.
So yes, I know I sound like Debbie Downer and yes, I know it was just Halloween. But it won't exactly go down in the record books as our best one. I can't even fain delight by at least acknowledging that my kids brought home buckets of candy that I can tear into when they're asleep. Geez Louise - they didn't get any candy for Halloween!!! Tell me, how unfair is my life????????????????
I will at least acknowledge that sweet Poppy did go and buy them some cotton candy at the zoo. It was the first time my kids had ever had Cotton candy and they couldn't exactly figure it out (though in usual Rocco determination, when it comes to food, he ate every last bite) so at least I did get a good laugh when Remi looked at it, put it in her mouth and asked, "Why are you feeding me sheep's hair?"
Well, how was yours? But I beg you...don't rub it in.