My Heart's In Dixie

Mosey On Over

2009-08-01T12:10:00.002-05:00

The change is official - My Heart's In Dixie is now live and rolling at its new location! Please click the link, check it out and re-set your RSS feed so you don't miss a single adventure from the land of the Princesses, the not-quite-ready-for-SNL Knight, and me - the Queen whose tiara is always slightly askew. Looking forward to seeing you there!

The Big Move Begins!

2009-07-26T20:40:00.003-05:00

Hello faithful readers! I've decided to make as many changes as my brain can take in the next week or so and move this blog to its very own site - just as soon as I figure out exactly how to do that. Heh.

And no, I don't plan on sleeping much in the next week, but thanks for asking. If you're local, take pity on me and throw me a chocolate bar or an IV drip of caffeine.

So, hopefully this will be my last Blogger-hosted post. Come Aug. 1, check out the all-new, totally snazzified, bedazzled and gloriously bedecked blog at myheartsindixie.com.

And in the meantime, check out a couple of fun Happy List ideas to close out my Blogger era. God bless you all and thank you for reading, commenting and spreading the word about My Heart's In Dixie. Y'all try to stay out of trouble for a few days, m'kay?

This is my favorite new musical group, and I guarantee you'll love them, too. Even if you're not a country fan, check them out. Their harmonies are fantastic, and heads up ladies, the gentlemen half of the quartet are rather easy on the eyes.
I'll probably mention this again soon, but mark your calendars now - "Mad Men" is back on AMC Aug. 16. I usually only manage to watch one TV show a week - "Intervention" - but I'll even forego that for a while to watch STL native Jon Hamm and everyone else on this fantastic show.
Shameless plug - Happy Birthday to Me on July 28th! This is my last official birthday - beginning next year, I'll begin revisiting old birthdays by working my way back down the age scale. I'm Southern - that's what we do when we reach a certain age. And I am so there.

He's No Zac Efron, But...

2009-07-21T22:58:00.004-05:00

Then again, I'm no Vanessa Hudgens.

But if nothing else, my dear Knight is most definitely goofy. How so, anyone who doesn't know him personally may be asking? (If you've ever met him, you already know.) Case in point (and as God is my witness, this is a true, unembellished story - as all my stories are. Heh. Okay, maybe not all - but my reporting on this one is entirely and mortifyingly true):

Over the weekend the princesses were enjoying a sleepover at their aunt's castle, so my Knight and I rapturously snatched the opportunity to do what any couple with young children do when relatives take pity on them and keep the children.

Geesh, not that. This is not that kind of blog. And besides, you get me within ten feet of anything resembling a bed these days, I'll be sawing logs in 30 seconds. Yep, I am such the object of desire - I'm sure Playboy will be calling me any day. Snort.

Anywhoo, we went to the grocery store to grab a highly nutritious selection of bad snack food we would 1) never allow the princesses to have; 2) never let the princesses see us eating; and 3) enjoy while sitting in the living room in front of the TV, which we never let the princesses do.

Oh, how I love being a rebel.

So I'm wandering down an aisle, debating whether I should get Double-Stuf Oreos and the Ben & Jerry's Peanut Butter Cup ice cream or just grab the jumbo bag of Dove chocolates and wait for the diabetic coma to overtake me, when up walks my Knight. Rather than some normal greeting: "What are you looking for?" "Are you ready to go?" "Will I really get sick if I eat canned chili with jalapenos and Fritos?" he walks up to me and says - loudly, getting the attention of several nearby shoppers:"Why, Mistie Thompson, I haven't seen you in 20 years! How have you been?" At which point he grabs me, leans me back in his arms and kisses me like we're Scarlett and Rhett from "Gone With The Wind."

But that's not the funny part.

After he lets me up from this dramatic kiss, he looks at me with this completely innocent face and deadpans, loud enough to hear across several aisles: "So, how's your husband?"

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is a snapshot of my dear Knight in action. And why I have a feeling I won't be invited to participate in the school PTO this year.

Strange Things

2009-07-13T22:24:00.005-05:00

Do you ever see something going on around you, or on TV, or in the world at large that makes you stop and say, "I just don't get it"? Lately, I swear I'm doing it more and more. I've always been a bit of an odd duck and generally out-of-step with my peers, so it could very well just be my duck bill trying to poke its head out again. Now I could go avail myself of intensive - and expensive - therapy sessions to figure out if I've developed new neuroses...but why would I do that when I have all of you kind enough to analyze me for free?

I love it when I'm practical.

Anywhoo, here's my "I just don't get it" list. If you do get it, please help me out and explain what I'm missing. If you're with me in "just don't get it" land, let me know so I don't feel quite so much like I should just quit threatening to become a hermit and actually do it.

Tattoos - especially when a young, pre-baby woman gets one on her stomach. Ladies, I don't know if anyone has mentioned this, but when you get pregnant, this will not be very attractive. And after you've given birth, it's going to get really flabby. What started out near your bubbies is going to end up just north of your knees. So don't. Just...don't.

"The Hills" - do we really want to encourage Speidi any further in their pursuit of stardom? I think not.

Drinking alcohol specifically to get drunk - I've been puzzled about this one since high school (OK, college - because I was a nerd who never went/was invited to high school parties). Let me understand - you drink until you A) act like a giggling idiot; B) throw up on something; or C) pass out, usually in an undesirable location. Tell me again what part is fun?

Why brussels sprouts are so good for you but taste so incredibly bad.

Chewing gum. When I was little, my grandmother told me that little girls who chewed gum looked like cows chewing cud. She apparently scarred me for life. To this day, the thought of putting gum in my mouth makes me gag. And when Princess E wants to chew gum (on the rare occasions when someone else gives her a piece, 'cause y'all know I'm not buying it), I try to stay in another room while she chews so I don't have to hear her chewing it.

Yeah, that last one's probably just me, huh? Quack.

Oops...excuse me.

A Midsummer's Happy List

2009-07-08T22:47:00.003-05:00

We've hit the halfway point to the summer, and I don't know about you, but we're having some serious fun in our little kingdom. Here's what's making us happy in the 'Lou this week - what's making your summer rock?

The Saint Louis Zoo - OK, so I know my friend Nancy is not particularly happy with the zoo because of its decimated gorilla situation (Nancy is a gorilla fanatic - the Midwestern version of Dian Fossey. I fully expect to get a message from her one day saying she's off to Rwanda and may never return. When that happens, Nancy, may I have your big screen TV? Mwah - love you!). But, other than the gorillas, the STL Zoo is a great, educational, mostly free activity for families to enjoy (I say mostly free because while it's free admission, the parking fees, train and carousel rides and special attraction fees can add up). My personal favorite is Penguin & Puffin Coast - you can pretty much get nose-to-nose with the cute little buggers, and I swear they pose for photos. Seriously. Pull out your camera and see what happens.

Our friends Dan & Sue Jenkins, who along with their too-cute kids Emma, Isaiah and Caleb, are preparing to move to Costa Rica to serve as missionaries for ReachGlobal. We had a wonderful sloppy burger cookout with the Jenkins family recently and heard the story of their journey-before-their-journey that led them to becoming missionaries and leading ReachGlobal's microenterprise efforts in Costa Rica. They still need help raising all of their salary and living expenses before they go - they're about 40 percent away from their goal, so please check out their blog to learn more, and please pray about giving to help their efforts.

So You Think You Can Dance - need I say more?

This book. Get it. Read it. Then pass it on. Everyone needs to read this book, then decide what they can personally do to get us back on track. We're all in this together, people. Let's make it happen!

Attack of the Three-Year-Old Diva

2009-07-05T22:55:00.003-05:00

Ah, three-year-olds. I love 'em. One moment life is great, they're laughing and having fun. The next? A shrieking, wailing, kicking alien is writhing on the floor, incensed because you dared - dared - to put their juice in the monkey cup instead of the birdie cup.

Good times, people. Good times.

I'd love to say that Princess G never appears to have morphed into Reagan from "The Exorcist." She looks so angelic - wavy blond hair, big blue eyes, three dimples, a happy-go-lucky personality, well-developed comic timing and a wickedly funny sense of humor. (Note that I did not choose the word "wickedly" by chance.) Everyone tells us how adorable and sweet she is - and she is.

Sometimes. Usually the first 27 seconds after she wakes up. Then it gets ugly.

Case in point: a typical work/school morning. We're getting dressed, brushing teeth, doing hair, etc., and out of the blue, Princess G decides she doesn't want to wear shorts to school. She wanted to wear a skirt.

No, I don't think you understand. SHE WANTED TO WEAR A SKIRT. WHAT PART OF THAT IS CONFUSING, YOU DIMWITTED EXCUSE FOR AN ADULT?!!

Yeah, I didn't quite get the intensity of her desire on first blush. However, about 30 minutes into her 45-minute crying, screaming, Tasmanian devil rant around the house, I started to catch on. (I pride myself on my intuitiveness as a mother.)

There was naked ranting at one point (on her part). There was hiding in the laundry room banging heads against the wall at another point (on my part). There was the thinking stair. There was the taking away of the next gymnastics lesson. There was the banishment of the favorite toy to the top of the refrigerator. There was the threat of taking her to school in her pajamas. There was even the threat of taking her to school naked. (It was late. She had stripped. I was desperate. Like you wouldn't think about it, too.)

Thankfully, there was no yelling (on my part - at least until I was in the car alone later). And, there was no giving in. Finally, there was acquiescence. Shorts were on. Noses were blown. Tears were wiped (those were mine). And we finally made it to school. Completely clothed - both of us. And I finally made it to work. Where I twitched in a corner for the next hour.

There's five months to go until we hit four. I think strong pharmaceuticals may be in order. Or at least one naked trip somewhere. (On my part. I can't guarantee rational thinking if I have to hear that shriek again.)

Wow. Just...Wow.

2009-07-02T22:14:00.003-05:00

Thank you.

I am overwhelmed and humbled by the kind words that you've posted over the past couple of days, as well as the emails, IMs and Tweets you've sent. Thank you for your kindness, your compassion, your indignation on my behalf and your support. For those of you I know personally, I'm looking forward to giving out big hugs the next time I see you. For those I only know through the blogosphere, I hope I get the chance to meet you in "real life" and thank you face to face.

The author Elbert Hubbard wrote, "To avoid criticism do nothing, say nothing, be nothing." I used to be terrified of criticism - it would literally make me sick to my stomach. I couldn't handle anyone being upset with me, so I was a limp noodle - I didn't stand for anything and I didn't voice my opinions on anything for fear of upsetting someone, because I thought if someone disagreed with me, that meant I would be instantly disliked. I wanted desperately to be liked, so I was - for lack of a better word - a cowardly weenie.

I'm getting over that (maybe you've noticed - heh). I decided that I was tired of "being nothing" in my impossible effort to make everyone happy, so I started staking my claim in the world, so to speak. I'm losing my fear of having an opinion, slowly but surely. This blog is one way of doing that.

So to all of you who read, consider and respectfully comment, you have my sincere thanks and my request to please continue doing so as often as possible. For those who choose to go beyond that into personal, disrespectful and deliberately hurtful comments, you'll no longer be published here - for your own sake.

You see, your comments don't hurt me. I know who I am, I know where I stand, I know where I'm going, and - while I am far from perfect - I like myself. No, the only one your comments hurt are you, because of what they reveal about you. And that I think, if you really thought about it, you wouldn't want anyone to know.

Truly A Happy List

2009-06-29T22:45:00.003-05:00

Y'all can't even imagine the many, many ways I've seen God's goodness in the past week. The response to my news about being laid off has been tremendously and overwhelmingly positive, and I've had some of the most amazing opportunities given to me - things I never imagined I'd do, and others I've always wanted to do but never had the chance. I'll put one on this week's Happy List, and I'll be announcing others as they're firmed up over the next few weeks. Suffice it to say that I have been on my knees more than once in the past week, humbled by God's grace and blessings beyond what I ever imagined or deserved.

So here goes - feel free to send me your Happy List additions by commenting. God is good - give Him the glory!

Come Sept. 8, I'll be a teacher! Yep, I'm the newest addition to the Living Water Academy staff - I'll be teaching computers/digital media to pre-K through 8th graders 11 hours per week in LWA's too-cool computer lab. Wait until you see what we're going to do - all I can say for now is bookmark the LWA website, 'cause we'll be rockin' it come fall, baby!

I've got so many exciting meetings set up with a variety of people about freelance opportunities that I've set up a special list in my iPhone just to keep up with them all. I'll tease you with a few hints of subjects I might be dipping my toes into soon: musicals/stage shows, politics, health care, dance and video production. Is it the Broadway production of "Health Care Reform: The Musical"? You'll just have to keep checking back for updates. Heh heh.

Check out the website of my dear friend, former colleague, recent SLU MBA grad and seriously talented photographer Maria Donaldson. If you're in the STL area and want beautiful pregnancy/baby/children/family photos, call Maria. I can't wait to get the princesses in front of her camera!

While you're checking out websites, mosey on over to my little sister's blog. She's 17 going on about 40, I swear. This Simple Southern Girl is anything but, and I can't wait to see her take my alma mater by storm come fall.

And of course, the Princesses. Here's my favorite photo of the week - enjoy!

Movin' On...Up? Out? Into a Van Down by the River?

2009-06-22T21:13:00.003-05:00

Drum roll please...the big news that I've been teasing about on Twitter? I'm saying farewell to Standing Partnership after ten years and going out into the big wide world on my own as a freelance public relations consultant.

Yeah, I know. Kind of a goofy time to be doing something like this, huh? There's that small issue of the biggest economic crisis the world has seen in a long flippin' time - and our dear new president's laser-focused determination to beat the living crap out of whatever shred of innovation and entrepreneurial activity that might pull us out of it. Well, I didn't exactly choose this route (I am a tinge nuts but not certifiably crazy - legally, anyway), but I am joining the ever-growing ranks of laid off workers with a big advantage - I have the option of freelancing rather than needing to go out and find another formal position with another company.

So here's the deal. I could sit around and feel sorry for myself and drown my sorrows in a bunch of chocolate. Or, I can thank God for the amazing life He's given me to date, thank him for the knowledge, experience and skills that I've gained at Standing Partnership (which I am sincerely and eternally grateful for), and focus on the doors that I know - I know - He's going to open for me. Heck, He's already started growing my freelance career in a couple of fun and exciting ways - God's not one to wait around when He's ready to move on something.

I'm choosing door #2. And I'm choosing to focus on Him and keep my faith in Him, because I believe the promise He gave me in Jeremiah 29:11. I've seen it happen over and over in my life, and He's going to make it happen again. Probably not in any way I can envision, but that's what makes it really fun, right?

I'm sad to say goodbye, but I'm excited about where He's leading me. I'll be sharing more about that here in the next few weeks, so stay tuned.

I am, though, gonna go have a big old bowl of chocolate ice cream. Told you I'm not certifiable.

Book Review: Andy Andrews' "The Noticer"

2009-06-13T22:52:00.003-05:00

I'm kicking off what I hope will be a regular feature here in Dixieland - book reviews. I've recently joined Thomas Nelson's Book Review Blogger program, mostly because I think it will be fun and, selfishly, I hope it'll help improve my own writing. Also, it gives me a great excuse to read books that don't rhyme or involve at least one Disney princess.

And because I just don't have enough to do. Sleep is so overrated, don't you think?

So here goes! My first review is of "The Noticer" by New York Times bestselling author Andy Andrews (who I'm rather ashamed to admit I'd never heard of before). Set in Orange Beach, Ala., the story is about a mysterious wanderer named Jones who seems to know who in the town, sometimes despite outward appearances, needs "a little perspective." Young or old, homeless or driven to succeed at all costs, the residents of Orange Beach find themselves listening to this strange old man who somehow knows their innermost hurts - and the words that soothe and heal when nothing else has.

The book jacket promised that reading this book was "your chance to regroup, take a breath and begin your life again." Really? I was skeptical that Mr. Book Jacket really understood the glorious insanity of my life and thought that was a seriously big promise to make to a woman who hasn't slept a full night in six years - but I was willing to give it at least 10 pages before I chucked it and gave in to the allure of a comfy bed.

And wouldn't you know it - I loved it. Dang you, Andy Andrews. I couldn't put the flippin' thing down until I'd finished it, even though it was well past my bedtime and I was even more bleary-eyed than usual the next day. The characters were intriguing, the writing was entertaining, and the simple wisdom Jones shared made me stop and think. The concepts were so common sense - gratefulness, forgiveness, actively choosing the difference you'll make in the world - that we (okay, I) seem to blow past them in search of more complex answers. We (Sigh - fine. I - happy now?) have such complex problems in such a complex world that simple concepts cannot possibly be the answer, right?

Oh, we'd like to think so, because doesn't that give us a marvelous excuse not to fix our problems? The answers are right in front of us - actually, I believe they're hard-wired into our very souls by the Creator who loves us unconditionally and wants us to be happy. But of course, we're stubborn - and silly - and too often think we know best. Andy Andrews helps us remember that stopping to take a breath can let in a lot more than air; it can let the life that God intended for us to come back into marvelous focus.

But They Look So Sweet...

2009-06-09T21:43:00.015-05:00

They are darling, aren't they? Such sweet little faces, such beautiful inquisitive spirits.

But that's their public face...a very clever and diabolical cover they've invented.

Their true personas only come out around Mom, and the truth they're hiding is scary enough to make your hair stand on end - or at least make your nose glow a little.

The horrifying secret I've learned - after only a couple of weeks into the summer - is this. In the privacy and security of their home, they're WILD, SCREAMING, WHINING, FAIRNESS-CRUSADING, TOSS-ANY-MANNERS-MOM-HAS-TRIED-TO-TEACH, PUSH-YOUR-SISTER-INTO-A-WALL-IF-SHE-BUGS-YOU BANSHEES.

Think I'm exaggerating? Lying? In need of stronger meds? (You'd be right, but still.) People of the jury, I give you Exhibit A: This Morning's Activities

Wake up
Whine about who got their chocolate milk first and in what cup
Argue over whether to watch PBS or Noggin
Shove each other off the bed
Try to block the other from being the first down the stairs
Get mad at the dog for getting fed up with the fight on the stairs and going around them to technically be the first down the stairs
Argue about who gets the breakfast plates out of the cabinet
Argue about who gets to say prayers first (I'm sure God is most thrilled about this one)
Get mad when Mom chooses one to go first, whine about how unfair the world is and stick out tongue
Whine over said tongue insult
Start trading insults over the breakfast table - "You're a baby!" "You're a poopy-head!"
Trip over the dog while getting up from the breakfast table to go hit alleged poopy-headed sister. Get mad at sister for obviously conspiring with said dog to deliberately arrange the tripping. Sit on the floor and cry.
Stomp over to the "thinking stair" when Mom orders both there for timeout.
Start shoving each other and fighting over who gets to be on what step.
Pout and stomp up the stairs when Mom moves alleged poopy-headed sister to the landing in an effort to stop the stair territory battle.
Quietly crawl up the stairs and taunt alleged poopy-headed sister by singing the theme song from "Willie Wonka" (actually only the small portion of the chorus that is known) until...
Said sister snaps and "accidentally" pushes taunting sister down the stairs, resulting in a goose egg on the head and a cancellation of the day's planned visit to the pool.

It's gonna be a long summer, isn't it?

It's Summer - Let's Get Happy!

2009-06-06T21:15:00.005-05:00

Yes, dear readers, I am - I pinky-swear promise this time - back. Dance recitals are done, major projects are put to bed, and now it's time for summer. (Cue the Jimmy Buffet music and the cabana boy bringing me a boat drink.)

To celebrate, here's my first official Happy List of the Summer of 2009. Y'all chime in with your favorites - what makes summer just rock for you?

Wringing a promise out of my dear hubby that, upon retirement, we will move to some piece of ground where the mere mention of snow causes widespread panic and a run on the local grocery store...wait, that describes St. Louis. Let me clarify...and where there is no such thing as a one-syllable word because the Southern accents draw everything out to at least three syllables. And where it's a punishable by law offense to not serve sweet tea.
The pool. Ah, our new local pool. Granted, I haven't actually had time to go there yet, but I will. Oh, I will. Get your sunglasses ready, Ellisville residents - me and my glow-in-the-dark-white cheesy thighs are unapologetically on their way. Consider this your one and only warning.
Summer music. Of course, there's Jimmy. He is without a doubt the gold standard, and I will proudly be a Parrothead until the day I die. (BTW, I fully expect that at least one of his songs will be played at my wake. I will so come back and haunt you people if that doesn't happen.) Beyond Jimmy, I love good old Southern rock in the summer - anything from Lynrd Skynrd to Kid Rock will do. If you're with me on that, check out my friend Paul Highsmith's group The Vagabond Boys. They do what they call "Heartland Country Rock" and I'm enjoying it more every time I hear it. Not bad for a Yankee, Paul - we might make a Southerner out of you yet!
The Princesses. I know. I'm sickening, but I can't help it, they're just so dang cute in summer with their little swimsuits, pigtails and flip-flops! Princess E is my long, lean one this summer. There's just no trace of baby left on her, which makes my heart break and swell with pride at the same time. I got her to age six without an unfortunate addiction to chocolate or an unhealthy preoccupation with the remote control - WHOOHOO!!

Princess G (thank you, God) still has her chubby little arms and legs, and the cutest cheese on her tush you have ever seen in your life. (I'm serious. It's precious...oh, shut up.) (BTW, why is cellulite so dang cute on little ones and makes people run screaming from the horrifying sight of it on us? Life is so unfair.) But I have a feeling that cute baby fat isn't long for this world - she's already got muscles under there that I'm envious of. Heck, the kid can already do more pull-ups than me. (OK, so probably your grandma could too, but still - I'm impressed.)

I've just decided to ignore the coming muscles and kiss all over her all summer long - and try to burn the memory of those little dimpled elbows and cheesy tush into my brain. Those memories will keep me going long after cellulite becomes a bad word to her, too - and keep a smile on my face even if my knight and I end up in Fargo.

(Dear Knight, just kidding about that last part. I'm sure Fargo is a lovely place...if you're a polar bear. I need warmth...and sweet tea...and big hair...and sandals year-round...and great college football. Do me right, darlin'!)

Hello, Strangers!

2009-05-27T23:41:00.012-05:00

I know. I've been a bad blogger. Bad blogger, bad!

I have no excuse, other than the fact that May has been flippin' nuts. Work, end of Princess E's school year, my sister's graduation, a quickie vacation - and the prep for and recovery from vacation, dance recitals, etc., etc. Did I mention I'm now on a school board? As a result, I now look like this, only...shall we say...a little thicker. (Hey, when you're up until at least midnight every night working on something, sugar is the only thing that'll keep you going. Don't judge me.)

Anywhoo, I'm back and totally ready for a lazy, laid-back STL summer. The princesses and I are planning to spend most of our time at our community's new pool once all our dance recitals are done for the year (one more week - yea!), so me and my fat, pasty thighs will be lounging around for all Ellisville pool-goers to see. I'm apologizing in advance right now, but since I've learned to embrace my lily-white skin and, short of lipo I'm not willing to shell out bucks for, my thighs sure as heck aren't going anywhere, we're all just going to have to learn to live with it. I'll keep them covered as much as possible, but when I'm chasing two water-bugs around, I can't guarantee anything.

So, other than my thighs, I'm looking forward to a frugal (I'm channeling my great-grandma during the Depression and socking cash away - trust me, you need to do the same) but fun summer in the 'Lou. It's easy to do here - lots of fun free and almost-free attractions.

What are y'all planning to do this summer? Let's talk best practices in affordable and low-stress summer fun - winner gets to plan the first "Summer Lovin' in the 'Lou" outing. :-)

(By the way, I have no idea why the formatting on this post is so screwed up and refusing to show my paragraph breaks. Blogger, fix yourself!!)

Uh...I'm So Proud?

2009-05-17T22:41:00.006-05:00

Here's Princess E in her natural state:

Here's Princess E after being attacked by either the ghost of Tammy Faye Bakker or the makeup artist for this Robert Palmer video:

Okay, so maybe she was getting all gussied up for her dance recital dress rehearsal.

But I'm still worried her sister is preparing to be the 21st century version of Madonna. Oy vey.

Where's the nearest convent?

Glory In My (Extra)Ordinary Life

2009-05-09T23:27:00.017-05:00

This is why I love being a mother:

And this:

Oh, and this:

Thank you, Lord, for my perfectly ordinary, yet so extraordinarily blessed life as a mommy to two anything-but-ordinary princesses.

Happy Mother's Day to all!

Top 10 List Of What Moms Really Want For Mother's Day

2009-05-04T22:24:00.004-05:00

Sleep
Breakfast in bed - at noon
Sleep
A professional massage - i.e. not by the cheapskate hubby with some massage oil, a couple of candles and a Luther Vandross CD
Sleep
Kisses and hugs from children who aren't screaming and punching each other over who gets to kiss and hug mom first/last/the most/the hardest/the sloppiest
Did I already say sleep? I can't remember. I'm sleep-deprived.
One night in a luxurious hotel suite. Alone. No Disney Channel - or Luther Vandross.
One night in a luxurious hotel suite...with Zac Efron. (Did I write that out loud? I'm sorry. I'm sleep-deprived.)
Healthy, loving, vibrant children and a hubby who knows how to cherish a lady. Without dragging out the Luther Vandross CDs.
Sleep. Wait...do I have 10 yet? I do? Sorry. I'm sleep-deprived.

Looking A Little Harder

2009-04-27T22:20:00.003-05:00

Yeah, okay, I admit that things are looking a bit, shall we say, dark at the present moment. I for one am really annoyed that this whole swine flu thing is casting aspersions on hogs. I love hogs. I've cheered for Hogs my whole life - and in an official capacity for four years a long, long, long freakin' time ago. So how about we rename this whole pandemic thingie? How does "bacon flu" strike you? Same general meaning, but farther away from the mental image of my beloved Razorbacks. Yes, the bacon industry might be a little peeved, but c'mon, it's bacon. People love bacon. It'll bounce back in a year or so. :-P

Now that I've been highly inappropriate and insensitive with a serious topic (oh, lighten up!), let's really chase away the doom-and-gloom with this week's Happy List:

Highlights hidden pictures online - do y'all remember this? I adored Highlights magazine when I was a kid, and the hidden pictures were one of my favorite parts. Thanks to a heads-up Tweet from Michelle Malkin (love her!), I've just discovered them online, AND when you find a hidden object, it animates! I almost wanted to wake up the Princesses and play it with them (I say "almost" because I'm not that crazy. Yet.)
MOPS is coming to Wildwood - more specifically, to West County Community Church. We're having an info meeting May 6 at 6 p.m. Y'all come!
This iPhone app - I wanted to do something non-boring, yet fast, yet also something edible for picky Princesses, with fish tonight, so I did the "Dinner Spinner" and half an hour later the most delicious Parmesan-encrusted tilapia was being wolfed down by the family. I could not love my iPhone more. I'm sending it a valentine next year. Dear knight, you may be replaced in my affections. Sorry.
"Atlas Shrugged" - if you haven't read it, get up from your computer, go buy a copy (if you can find one these days - they're going like hotcakes again) and read it. The first time I read it, I was happy that I knew what's described in the story would never happen here. Reading it again, I'm blown away at how much of it is now happening. (One caveat: I of course think Ayn Rand missed the boat entirely about God. I'm surmising that growing up during the Russian revolution really did a number on her and drove her, sadly, to atheism. There is a Christian Objectivist philosophy that you may want to delve more into after reading the book.) It's scary stuff, but it's on my Happy List because it's just a fantastic book. Go. Now. Read.

And have some bacon while you're at it.

Oops

2009-04-22T23:00:00.007-05:00

Uh-oh, I goofed. I forgot something.

I know. Shocking, right? 'Cause I never forget to do anything. My children have never gone to school with unbrushed hair, and I've never left the house without certain...ahem...important articles of clothing.

Oh, like you've never done that before. Don't judge me.

So I committed the cardinal sin of blogging - I didn't post a comment that one of my many thousands of readers (a girl can dream, right?) was kind enough to leave. And of course, it was a political comment from someone on the other side of the aisle, so it would appear that I didn't post the comment on purpose.

But that's not what happened - I'm not being a Blogging Censor, I'm just chronically sleep-deprived and continually distracted. Here's what actually happened:

So I get this comment through my email, as I get all my comments. This one, though, happens to come through the day before my dear doggie passes away, on a day when I'm rushed, stressed and exhausted. I see it, read it, wonder who in the heck "anonymous" is and which of my friends is such a diehard Democrat that they'd post this particular comment, and when I can schedule their intervention, and I continue running through my emails, intending to come back, post the comment, and then post my own pithy but slightly biting comment to his/her comment.

But that last part never quite happens. Over the next couple of days, I'm distracted by everything else going on, the email moves down off the first page of my emails, and I forget all about it - until I have lunch with a good friend today who makes a cryptic comment about me editing my blog comments.

I, of course, being the clueless wonder that I am these days, think to myself, "What the heck is he talking about?" then blather on through my day. It's only on my way home from work, when I have a few moments in the car to clear my head and think about the day that it hits me what he was talking about. It's the comment I've never posted -and he's "Mr. Anonymous."

Oopsie.

So here I am not only rectifying my error by posting the comment, I'm outing myself as an official Clueless Wonder - and, most painfully, I'm refraining from commenting to Mr. Anonymous' comment. (Rest assured, though, that I had a really snappy comeback ready to go for you, mister.)

And I'm stating for the world my Official Comment Policy - you write it, I'll post it. No editing, no holding back - unless you are ignorant enough to post something vulgar, crude or patently offensive that you would never say if your mama was around. If that happens, I won't post your comment, but I will totally make fun of you for being such a tool in a subsequent blog post. (Hey, if you wanna be an idiot, get your own freakin' blog.)

My deepest apologies, Mr. Anonymous. Please come back and post again - your comments are totally welcome here. Besides, I'll have a marvelous time spanking you in a debate. (And no, when I say spank, I don't mean in a way you would enjoy, you reprobate.)

And for all other commenters, follow the Democrats' voting policy - comment early and often. Heh heh.

Update: It turns out that the guy I thought was my "Mr. Anonymous" - who I also thought was joking - didn't post the comment in question. So, I can only guess at who it is and assume he/she was serious. In which case, he/she deserves the ripping I gave them in my return comment for the childish and ridiculous comment.

And, new policy alert - no more posting of "anonymous" comments. If you make the statement, you better be willing to claim them openly. If not, they're going in the trash bin.

Life Goes On

2009-04-19T22:14:00.003-05:00

A big Southern-accented thank you to all of you who have emailed, commented, Tweeted, left a Facebook message, called or given me great in-person hugs regarding the loss of Elvis. God is good - He always shows you how many wonderful friends you have when you need them the most.

And so life goes on - and the humor that highlights every day of life with the Princesses makes it that much more precious...and/or head-bangingly crazy. Case in point: The Great Car Music Fight of 2009.

Here's the deal. I didn't know it when I bought it, but apparently the only music that can play in my car is one of the three High School Musical movie soundtracks. (I guess I should be grateful there are three to choose from.) Princess E always sings Gabriella's part (and the British chick from the third movie - E apparently has a talent for mimicry and can do a spot-on British accent), while Princess G owns Sharpay. (And I mean owns it - when we're watching any one of the HSM movies at home, she'll act out every scene verbatim. It's flippin' hysterical.) I, of course, am asked to sing all the guy parts. Given my singing voice, that's probably pretty accurate.

Anywhoo, The Great Car Music Fight occurs whenever one of the princesses dares to encroach upon the lyrics of the other. It usually goes something like this:

Princess G & E: "I want fab-u-lous"

Princess G: "Hey, that's my song!"

Princess E: "I like that song, too!"

Princess G: "I don't care! It's my song, isn't it, Mom?" (I, of course, have turned up the music to eardrum-splitting levels in the hope that it will drown them out. What? Me, passive-aggressive? Nooo! Heh heh.)

Me: "Ladies, either we all get to sing whenever we want, or the music goes off."

Backseat: grumble, grumble "Okay, Mom. Sorry."

Princess G (loudly singing): "I want fab-u-lous!"

Princess E (louder): "That is my simple request!"

Princess G (screaming and glaring at Princess E): "I want fab-u-lous!"

Princess E (shrieking and glaring back): "Bigger and better AND BEST!"

I click music off: "That's it. Music's off. We're listening to nothing."

Backseat (sobbing): "But Mom, she's started it! She's so mean! You make me so mad!"

Me: "That's it. Now you've done it. Mom gets to choose the music now." Click on the local sports talk station.

Backseat: "Nooooooo!!! Mom, please, we'll be good. We promise! Please not just talking!!"

Guess I should apologize now to their future husbands for developing in them an early hatred of sports talk. Eh, if that's the worst thing I instill in them, you should just thank me and move on.

Me: "Nope. You choose the behavior, you choose the consequences. (Ah, the wisdom of Dr. Phil.) We're listening to this all the way home. And if you whine about it, we'll listen to it at home, too."

Backseat: sniffle, sniffle, big sigh, whisper, whisper, "We're sorry, Mommy."

Me: "Thank you, ladies. Let's just turn the radio off completely and play a game, okay?"

Backseat: "Yeah! Let's play I Spy! No! Let's play Find the Alphabet! Mom, you never play the game I choose! Mom, she is so pushy - why does she always get to choose the game?"

At which point I grab my iPhone, stick an earbud in one ear, (The other by now is completely deaf. I told you God is good.) and play my favorite music until we arrive at home and I can duct-tape them to the kitchen chairs for a good half-hour session of sports talk radio.

Oh, like I'd do that. Seriously. Fifteen minutes is my absolute sports talk limit for them. Heh heh.

Until We Meet Again

2009-04-12T23:59:00.005-05:00

He died in my arms Thursday night.

As I huddled in the floor of our laundry room where he'd collapsed, cradling his head and stroking his silky, Spock-like corgi ears while he gasped for breath, I frantically called my dear knight and held the phone to one pointy ear so that his dad since the age of six weeks could say goodbye. The door shut to the laundry room, and - thanks be to God - the princesses engrossed in a Disney movie, I gently cuddled him and whispered that I loved him and that it was okay to go. It seemed to be what he was waiting to hear, because his breathing stilled and his heartbeat racing under my hand faded quietly away.

A week after an uncharacteristic seizure (although a lifelong epileptic, his seizures were extremely well-controlled and hadn't occurred in years) and five days after he began losing his sight, his hearing and his ability to walk in rapid succession, our dear Welsh Pembroke corgi passed away from what multiple veterinarians who checked him believe was an aggressive and fast-moving brain tumor. Prior to that wicked seizure, he had been one of the most amazing doggie specimens around - at age 14, he looked and acted like a dog half his age, jumping over anything his short little corgi legs could clear and loving nothing better than running beside Princess E on trips around our subdivision.

It wasn't always that way. When the knight and I went to choose our first "child" from a litter of corgis, he was the runt. The breeder even warned us that we might not want to choose him because she thought he was, in her words, "special." But when I first bent down to get a closer look at the wriggling mass of corgi puppies, he was the one who ran straight up to me, stretched up on those teeny hind legs and licked my nose. How could I possibly choose another after that?

On the ride home, this fawn-colored puppy the length of my forearm cuddled down between me and the car's center console and promptly fell asleep, while we debated names and I stroked those impossibly soft ears that hadn't yet popped straight up in that typical corgi style. (A few weeks later, the right one would pop up, but the left stayed droopy another week or so, which gave him this adorable lopsided look that got him out of more than one of his oh-so-frequent naughty scrapes.) Once we got him home to our tiny starter condo, he sniffed around and then plopped down in the typical doggie sitting pose, but with one noticeable difference - he was so little that one of his legs shook as he tried to keep himself upright, proudly showing us his "big doggie" pose. In that moment, he earned the name that beautifully fit his larger-than-life personality - Elvis.

That "special" little runt turned out to be one of the most beautiful, athletic, intelligent - and mischievous - corgis we, and our vets and groomers, had ever seen. Elvis didn't just learn to speak, he learned to "grunt" a la Tim Allen on "Home Improvement." He was a sleek, muscular, stubborn dog with a stomach of steel and a taste for just about anything - among his most infamous snacks: drywall, a linoleum floor, a Duraflame log (prompting our by-now-shocked-by-nothing vet to say, "Eh, it's mostly fiber."), and a pound of fudge. Contrary to popular thought, the fudge didn't make him sick in the slightest - it took two doses of vet-prescribed hydrogen peroxide to get him to bring it all back up, in typical Elvis fashion, on the light beige carpet of our new home.

Age barely slowed him down. Neither did the arrival of his "brother" Winston, nor the births of two decidedly unfurry princesses, whom he thought were the greatest playthings (or at least the greatest food-droppers) ever - although rather hard to herd, as his corgi instincts dictated he do whenever possible. Sure, he slept a little more in the past year or two, but he was bright-eyed, as fast as ever, and still able to leap up on our bed every night to lay on and warm my feet. The only nights he didn't were those when my knight worked late - when that happened, Elvis would sleep on the landing of the stairs, dutifully protecting his family and no doubt willing to gnaw the kneecaps off anyone who tried to get past him.

As hard as it was to hold him as he died, at the same time I feel incredibly privileged to have been there with him, and I pray that I comforted him as he passed. I am so very sad, but I also know - in my soul I know - that he is running and jumping and playing and herding little ones in Heaven right now, and he will be among the first to greet me when I go there someday. For that - and for the awesome privilege of being his mommy for 14 years - I thank God.

But that doesn't stop me from aching to stroke those velvet ears just one more time, or from knowing that my feet will never really be warm in bed ever again.

Goodbye Elvis - you were indeed "special" in so many ways we could have never imagined. You will always be loved, and you will never be forgotten.

Finding the Happy List

2009-04-07T23:01:00.004-05:00

I'm overdue on a Happy List, and since I'm not feeling particularly happy at the moment, I'm thinking that this list is about the best thing I can do right now. God is always good, especially in our darkest hours - heck, that's usually when He's jumping up and down on your heart going, "Hello?! I'm here! Open up and let me do my job, lady!" Message received, Big Guy, so here goes with a little bit of serious and a whole lot of silly (hey, I just go with what works):

Easter weekend - is there anything that can lift our hearts more than Easter? You've got the ultimate promise fulfilled, and the opportunity to celebrate it openly in a free country. Amen and hallelujah to that!
Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs - I promise to start my diet next Monday, after I stuff myself silly with the greatest food product ever created. No, I am not exaggerating. Do not get between me and my Reese's Eggs.
Easter dresses for the Princesses - this year we're going with a chic brown and pink palette, accessorized with the perfect bows, shoes and purses. Yes, they will be the cutest things ever. And again, I am not exaggerating. Wait until I post the photos.
Zac Efron back on the big screen - and the small screen, for that matter. He's hosting SNL this weekend (this might actually entice me to watch SNL again). Yes, I have a ridiculous crush on a young man half my age. No, do not remind me that I'm old enough to be his mother (you are so rude). Pass the eggs and move over - you're blocking the TV...and those amazing blue eyes. (My dear knight, if you're reading this, feel free to have a similar crush on Zac's girlfriend. Why wouldn't you? She's gorgeous - and also half your age. Just a friendly reminder. Heh heh.)

Anyone wanna join my viewing party Saturday night?

The Loveliness of Virginia

2009-04-05T21:39:00.004-05:00

I just returned from a two-day whirlwind trip to Charlottesville, Virginia, which I believe I can now safely say is my favorite place in the entire world. (Heads up: intense gushing will now ensue. Read if you dare.) My ancestors must have lived in Virginia at some point - its green rolling hills and peaceful beauty touches my soul, and I feel in my bones that I'm truly home every time I visit.

Of course, being a huge history geek I also adore it because of its historical importance. It's intensely moving for me to walk the paths and visit the homes of the founders of our country - Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, George Washington (just to name a few) - and get even a small sense of what inspired them to create this great nation with such care and reverence.

And finally, the people of Virginia are simply wonderful. The originators of Southern hospitality at its finest, they are charming, gracious and proud of their beloved state's place in history. And the accents - oh, those slow, smooth-as-honey accents just knock my socks off. Even people who haven't lived there long enough to acquire the accent seem to instantly embrace the hospitality. My friend Marijean is a prime example.

Not that she wasn't hospitable before transplanting from the 'Lou to C'ville - she definitely was, but it's even deeper and more personal now. Marjiean not only took time out from her family (sick daughter included) to drive me all over town - including two driving tours through the stunning Jefferson-designed University of Virginia campus - but she also managed to squeeze into our schedule a tour of Montpelier, James Madison's recently restored home (you can check out my photos here). This was in response to my request to just "drive me by something historic while I'm in Charlottesville!" - yep, this would be Southern hospitality at its finest!

Thank you, Mj, for your kindness and time - this trip is now on my all-time favorite "business" trip list (we actually did spend most of our time doing some fascinating work with a great C'ville client - readers, make sure to fly straight into Charlottesville the next time you go - and Montpelier, please call us. We are dying to work with you!). I can't wait to visit again - mostly to catch Mj doing more sneaking into the basements of historic homes. Heh heh.

Just Mash The Bag

2009-04-01T23:06:00.004-05:00

So I'm getting ready to head to Charlottesville to do some on-site work with my favorite blogger. (In other words, I'm taking a two-day "Mommy Vacation.") Of course, this two-day visit requires about two weeks of planning and preparation that would make the Secret Service proud. I'm running around the house folding clothes, packing bags (Princess E is off to a friend's house while Princess G goes to grandma's), making a pre-trip grocery shopping list and cleaning the bathrooms (because if I go down in a fiery plane crash I do not want mourners gathering at my house and finding dirty bathrooms. Don't judge me - y'all know you do the same thing) while giving my dear knight a schedule of the princesses' activities, needs and latest quirks (pears=good; bananas=bad). My eyes catch the starter dough for the Amish Friendship Bread I've been given a couple of days before.

"Oh, and honey, make sure while I'm gone you mash the bag of Friendship Bread once a day."

"What?"

"Mash the bag of Friendship Bread once a day."

"Why?"

"Because that's what you have to do to make the bread."

"How?"

"How what?"

"How do I mash it? Do I really knead it or just lightly massage it? Do I do it in the morning or at night? How long do I mash it? Are we talking a couple of minutes, or should I get comfortable on the couch for a long mashing session? How do I mash it?"

"Oh for goodness sakes, just mash the freakin' bag for a minute every night, okay?"

At which point I stalk upstairs, muttering phrases like "How does that man manage to find his way to work every morning?" under my breath.

But, once I thought about it, as much as I hate to admit it, his reaction actually made sense. Here I was planning something akin to the D-Day invasion, giving him detailed instructions on precisely how to fix Princess G's hair and pack Princess E's snack, and I suddenly throw a random, slightly unusual, completely unspecific reminder his way. He's been filling up a notebook with the instructions I've been hurling his way, so when I give him something so easy, my dear knight thinks there has to be more to the whole bag-mashing duty - just mashing the bag simply cannot be all there is.

Which of course led me to then realize that my family didn't really need to pull out the D-Day invasion playbook for my two-day trip. They probably would do just fine with directions as simple as, "Clean clothes are in the closets. Food is in the fridge. Get in bed by 8 p.m. and stay out of the cookie jar. That means you too, dear knight."

Would it be perfect? No. Would it be perfect even if they followed my directions to the letter? No. Would it be perfect if I were there running the show? Uh, no.

Hmmm. Lesson learned.

So, I'm headed out the door in just a few hours. The house is not perfect. I can't find Princess E's favorite socks. And Princess G is just going to have to suck it up and wear jeans again tomorrow (oh, the horror). But they'll be fine. And they'll have fun. And next time, we'll all be a little less stressed - we're just gonna relax and mash the bag.

A Little Sunshine

2009-03-29T23:24:00.003-05:00

We had a fun family potluck at church today. Y'know the kind where everyone brings seriously good homemade dishes and your plate is about to disintegrate under the weight because you wanted to try just a little of everything? It was almost as good as a Southern potluck, but since there was nothing that had been caught, killed and deep fried, it was missing that little taste of Dixie. Maybe next time I'll convince them to do the pig roast out back. Heh.

Anywhoo, I had to bring a dessert item, so I took a chance and tried a new recipe from the same cookbook that gave me this princess (what else?!) birthday confection. In the middle of a random snowfall, it felt great to make "Sunshine Sandwiches" - and apparently, it felt even better to eat them. I let the royal family taste test them after the first batch was out of the oven, and rather than just eat one, they kept shoveling them in until I had to make a second batch for the potluck! So here's the recipe - it took a little longer than your standard cookies, but the lemon scent that permeated the kitchen for hours afterward was heavenly, and if I do say so myself, they were pretty dang yummy. Enjoy!

Sunshine Sandwiches - makes 2 1/2 dozen (FYI - only if you make them really small)

1/3 cup coarse or granulated sugar
3/4 cup + 2 tablespoons butter, softened & divided
1 egg
2 tablespoons grated lemon peel (love this scent!)
1 pkg. (18 12/ oz.) lemon cake mix w/pudding in the mix (only found Pillsbury - any others?)
1/4 cup yellow cornmeal (sounds weird, but it works)
2 cups sifted powdered sugar
2 to 3 tablespoons lemon juice
Yellow food coloring

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Place coarse sugar in shallow bowl.
2. Beat 3/4 c butter in large bowl w/electric mixer at medium speed until fluffy. Add egg and lemon peel; beat 30 seconds. Add cake mix, 1/3 at a time, beating at low speed after each addition until combined. Stir in cornmeal - dough will be stiff. (Seriously stiff.)
3. Shape dough into 1-inch balls; roll in sugar to coat. Place 2 inches apart on ungreased cookie sheets.
4. Bake 8 to 9 minutes or until bottoms begin to brown. Let cookies stand on cookie sheets 1 minute; transfer to wire racks to cool completely.
5. Meanwhile, beat powdered sugar and remaining 2 tablespoons butter in small bowl w/electric mixer at low speed until blended. Gradually add enough lemon juice to reach spreading consistency. Stir in food coloring to reach desired shade of yellow.
6. Spread 1 slightly rounded teaspoon frosting on bottom of one cookie. Top w/second cookie, bottom side down. Repeat w/remaining cookies and frosting. Store covered at room temperature for up to 24 hours or freeze.

Singing The La-La Song

2009-03-24T23:06:00.005-05:00

That's what I find myself doing at some point every day when I just can't take any more of the sheer insanity going on in the world today - sticking my fingers in my ears, closing my eyes and singing "la la la la la" at the top of my lungs. Childish? Yes. Effective? Kind of. And, it's better for me than drinking heavily.

What I also like to do is compile another addition of the Happy List.

1) Funny or Die - yes, some of the videos are childish, and some are stupid, but some are just dang funny. My current favorite is Jon Hamm starring in "Lex Luthor Bailout." It's Jon Hamm - even if you don't find it funny, it's still a pleasure for the eyes, ladies. Heh.

2) Temperatures in the 60s for at least half the week. Spring is in the air!

3) The iPhone. Oh, how I love this invention. My knight accuses me of being addicted to it. Not true. I can put it down at any time. I just choose to occasionally walk into walls and sort of listen to him whisper sweet nothings (actually, just his ideas for the grocery list) in my ear.

4) Humor from The Patriot Post. 'Cause I am not going to sit around crying in my cornflakes over this mess. Fortunately, with this kind of thing regularly delivered to my email inbox, I don't have to.

Y'all join in and give us some more Happy List suggestions. I know there's some good stuff out there. If not, we're creative people. Or just people increasingly desperate for a good belly laugh. Or just more photos of Jon Hamm.

Playin' With The Big Dogs

2009-03-19T22:10:00.010-05:00

Oh, I am big time now.

My colleague - and more importantly, dear friend - Marijean (aka the STL Working Mom) has named my little ole homegrown effort here one of her "Mom Blogs that Rock." Seriously.

This is a huge deal for me because 1) Marijean's gentle cajoling (OK, actually borderline physical threats) urging me to start a blog is the reason this venture even exists, and she is a uber-well-known Blogger Extraordinaire (she's a flippin' TV news commentator, for goodness sakes!), so the fact that she thinks enough of it to recommend it is seriously flattering; and B) maybe now someone other than my family and certain deeply disturbed friends (I mean that in the best possible way, y'all - love you!) will actually read my blog.

So if you found your way through Ms. Marijean to this little slice of Southern craziness, with a side of two of the most precious little lovelies you will ever meet (that would be Princess E, age six, and Princess G, age three) and a Knight in Shining Armor (a little dented, but loyal and true after 15 years), welcome. Please give me a couple of chances to grow on you (kinda like kudzu) before you run screaming.

And please don't let the "Conservative Christian" label scare you off. I don't speak in tongues (I tried to learn Russian for two years in college, but my attempts were pathetic at best), I don't handle snakes (eeww, that would so ruin my manicure) and I won't try to baptize you with virtual water. I am a ridiculously flawed chick who screws up more times every day than I can count (and then blogs about it - it's cheaper than therapy), and I'm just grateful that God is forgiving. And patient. And eager to love and care for and bless me every day. I just declare "it" to the world from the get-go now because, to quote the wisdom of the great pugilist and admirer of all things Olive Oyl: "I yam what I yam." And for the first sustained period of time in my entire life, I really am starting to like who I am. I hope you'll like me, too.

And if not, well then, bless your heart. Heh heh.

My Little Hockey Player

2009-03-16T23:19:00.005-05:00

I know what you're thinking. Wait, I thought she had the two prissiest little pink-wearing, tiara-loving, bow-head princesses in the Midwest.

I did. I still have one. The other is now apparently starting a new chapter in her life as a substitute defenseman for the St. Louis Blues.

To be fair, she wasn't actually playing hockey when this happened. She and her dad were catching softballs in the front yard. Unfortunately, he forgot to tell her not to catch the ball with her face.

The good news is the missing tooth was already loose. The better news is that the other front tooth is loose as well. Hopefully it will fall out soon. Very, very soon.

Until then, I wonder if just the right kind of lip gloss will act as camouflage. Or maybe I should just stick a big bow on her Angelina Jolie lip. Pink, of course.

He's Good, And That Works For Me

2009-03-13T22:27:00.005-05:00

A couple of weeks ago my knight in shining armor and I went to our first-ever "marriage seminar." We've been married 15 years; at this point, I think we're due for an award just because neither of us has ever kicked the other out in a rage or thrown anything at the other - not that we haven't thought about it, but still, we haven't actually done it.

Anyway, we went to Focus on the Family's simulcast marriage conference, and although I have to admit being a little skeptical going in (I'm too private a person to usually get into this sort of thing), I came out a changed person. All the speakers - Gary Thomas, Dr. Del Tackett (love him - check out his blog ASAP - and if you ever get the chance to experience The Truth Project, do it), Gary Smalley and John Trent - were wonderful, but by far my favorite was Beth Moore.

Now, I'd heard conflicting reports about Beth. Some women love her, while I think some others find her a little..ahem...direct. This was my first "Beth experience," and I thought she was absolutely fantastic. Maybe I relate to her because she's a mouthy Southern chick with a wicked sense of humor. (Check out her blog to see what I mean.) Maybe it's because she and I can both be called the "Trifecta of Evil," aka a Southern Christian conservative (along with another new favorite of mine, Allison Worthington). But maybe it's because her marriage is far from perfect, as she was brutally honest about, but it's good. And good is good.

Sound like she's telling us to settle? No way. Beth's message is that women have an infatuation with idealism - we always want something better. We want that "honeymoon period" that we initially experience - that physical need for each other and feeling of total love and satisfaction - to last forever. And why shouldn't we? Isn't that what the great romances in literature, movies and TV show us is the norm?

Yeah, uh-huh. You get back to me with that overwhelming feeling of love when you've got a toddler gnawing on your ankle, a newborn throwing up on you, leaky boobs, piled-up laundry, dirty dishes and a sacked-out hubby completely oblivious to it all and totally surprised that you've got a butcher knife in your hand and are charging toward him.

Not that I ever did that. It certainly wasn't a butcher knife. Technically, anyway.

But I digress. Beth's point is simple. We've always been told to look for someone to "complete" us, and that is impossible to find. Man is as imperfect as woman is, and is wholly incapable of "completing" himself, so why in the world would we think a man could ever "complete" us?

Only God can complete us. Jesus gives us everything we need. He fills in what is incomplete in our marriage, and in our lives in general. We can't look to a man to do that, because we'll never be satisfied. And if we're not satisfied, ladies, you know ain't nobody in your house happy.

The problem is, we're looking in the wrong place. And we're longing for that overwhelming feeling of love to come back. It is going to come back - we'll find it in Heaven with Jesus. That longing we have is for eternity, and when we get there, we'll feel way beyond what we even think we're looking forward to. We can't even comprehend what that kind of love will feel like - and that feeling won't ever go away. Now that's my idea of a honeymoon!

So in the meantime, I'm looking at my dear knight in a completely different way. His job is not to complete me. His job is to love and cherish and protect and comfort me to the very best of his totally imperfect ability. He's good - and I'm good - and we're good together. And that, pre-eternity, is quite good enough for me.

My Happy List

2009-03-08T23:33:00.005-05:00

It's been a long, sad couple of weeks. At a macro level, I've just decided to boycott mainstream media, because I'm sick of hearing the sky is falling. Have these people ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy? (Answer: of course they have, which is why they're doing it. C'mon y'all - start connecting the dots. They're getting closer together every day.)

On the home front, two of my dear friends have lost their dads to cancer, and their pain is evident on their weary faces. In times like these, I don't know what else to do except pray, do what I can to make their lives a little easier...and try to find the joy in little things. Simple minded, maybe, but it makes me feel better, so here goes.

Here's the first installment of a new series I call the "Happy List" - the goofy little things that are putting a smile on my face. Y'all let me know if you have any to add - we can all use every smile we can get these days.

My new iPhone - nope, don't have a clue how to work the dang thing yet, but it seems really cool - and the princesses and I love the Whack'emAll app. (Again, it's the little things, people.)
Thin Mint Girl Scout Cookies - really, nothing more needs to be said here.
Reruns of "Mad Men" on AMC - two words: Jon Hamm. Wow. Just - wow.
This new Disney Dreams photo by Annie Leibovitz. Stunningly beautiful. Someone please tell me how can I get a print to put on Princess E's wall?
This blog - and this one. Oh, and one more (Michelle Kwan, you will forever ROCK in my eyes, Olympic gold or not).
Daylight Savings Time. Roll on in here, Spring. We all need a little warm sunshine to smack us upside the head and snap us out of the winter blahs.
And all the other Girl Scout Cookies. Eat up, people. It's our patriotic duty. :-)

There's A Tony In Her Future

2009-02-24T22:59:00.006-06:00

Princess E is happily making her musical theatre debut next weekend with her Living Water Academy classmates. It's just a spot in the chorus, but hey, future Broadway divas have to start somewhere. If you're in the area, you'll have two chances to catch her onstage in "Go, Go, Go Jo!" (apparently the elementary school version of "Joseph & the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" - who knew?) Friday, March 6 @ 7 p.m. or Saturday, March 7 @ 2 p.m. at West County Community Church in Wildwood. No ticket needed - it's free admission, and you'll be able to say you "knew her when," which hopefully will someday translate into sweet Broadway tickets.

On a related note, if anyone in the West County area is looking for a preschool through 8th grade Christian school for their child(ren) - or knows someone who is looking - Living Water Academy is hosting its "Spend the Day @ LWA!" private visit/tour the week of March 2. Princess E has loved every moment of kindergarten at LWA, and my dear knight and I are thrilled at her academic progress, social growth and spiritual development. It really is a place where kids are nurtured at a time when they most need it. Two thumbs up from this family!

Where'd She Go?

2009-02-18T22:29:00.003-06:00

Like my friend, colleague and fellow blogger Marijean, I haven't been blogging lately because...well...I just haven't felt like it. I generally like to blog about funny things, and let's face it, the world hasn't been a particularly funny place the past couple of months.

Also, like Marijean, I loathe winter - January and February to be precise. I hate being cold. After the oil well in my backyard finally strikes, I'm buying a tropical island and never leaving.

And for my final pathetic excuse of the evening...I've been much more into reading than writing the past couple of months. I think it has something to do with the winter/cold/snuggle under blankets with a good book thing. It's hard to snuggle with a laptop. And since I only have a short amount of time each night to read/write, it's usually a one-or-the-other prospect.

So, in the spirit of getting back into the swing of writing - and finding something funny to write about - I present...a photo. It's from last summer, but it reflects the current state of our two corgis - one we've shaved, in an effort to control the mounds of hair he normally sheds, and the other we, as yet, have not. Although, given that he currently is shedding so much he looks like he has mange, I'm seriously contemplating it. The only thing stopping me is the fact that we'd then have what would appear to be two mutant chihuahuas roaming around our neighborhood, rather than just one sad, embarrassed, naked corgi.

On the other hand, mutant chihuahuas might just be what we all need for a good laugh - you decide.

My Mommy Vacation

2009-02-02T21:31:00.004-06:00

So I'm in Raleigh tonight, preparing for a full day of client meetings tomorrow. In other words, a "Mommy Vacation!" (People, beggars cannot be choosers. If this gets me one day of sleeping until 7 a.m. and 24 hours without the Disney Channel, it's a vacation.)

Don't get me wrong. I'm missing my Knight and my Princesses like crazy. Princess E is spending the night with a friend from school, and Princess G is probably curled up asleep on Daddy's chest as I write this (she's the best cuddle-bunny ever). But a break from the usual routine every once in a while recharges my internal batteries faster than anything else.

I used to feel guilty about wanting (and taking) an occasional "break" like this - you don't hear about previous generations of women getting breaks from the backbreaking work and large families that were the norm. But, what they did have that we really don't anymore is a "village" - the extended family and close friends who all pitched in and helped out when one of their own needed extra help. When a woman had a baby, everyone pitched in around the clock for weeks to help. When the kids were old enough to play outside, everyone watched them, and everyone kept the kids out of (too much) trouble.

There was a real sense of community, because there had to be - but I think it was something more. The feeling of "we're all in this together" was tangible - women truly needed each other, and there was no shame in depending on each other. It was simply the right thing to do.

Now I'm not naive enough to think this camaraderie happened everywhere. But it happened a heck of a lot more often in previous generations than now. In my opinion, the camaraderie is a casualty of the "I am woman. I can do everything whenever I want by myself" way of thinking. In an effort to embrace our independence, have we chained ourselves to a lifetime of stress, frustration, unreachable goals and loneliness?

I can't have it all. I don't want it all. Because if I got it all, then what would I do? What's left after getting it all?

Here's what I do want: healthy children who love the Lord, respect themselves and others and have hearts full of compassion; a loving partnership with my husband that includes a lot of laughter; and to never forget that I am (thankfully) not in charge, but am here by God's mercy and blessed by His grace every day, even - no, especially - when things look their darkest.

So in the spirit of not having it all, I'm enjoying my Mommy Vacation, knowing my family is safe and okay without me for one night. And I'm still not missing the Disney Channel.

Random Thoughts

2009-01-26T22:22:00.005-06:00

I don't much like January. Last year, I totaled my car and was about a quarter-second away from being smashed to a pulp. This year, we've dealt with one crazy sickness after another, culminating in the granddaddy-of-them-all hitting our granddaddy (my Knight in Shining Armor's dad) in the form of a severe aortic aneurysm repaired just in the nick of time. Get your annual physicals, people - it quite literally saved Grandpa Knight's life.
I don't much like January, pt. 2. I detest being cold. I'm retiring to Hawaii. I might be homeless on the beach considering the cost of living there, but at least I'll be warm. And have gorgeous Hawaiian men to look at. Did I mention I'm retiring next week?
Michelle Kwan, please come back for the 2010 Olympics. I don't think curling is going to draw enough of a TV audience to justify NBC's investment. And we need drama beyond Bode Miller's level of drunkenness before the downhill slalom.
My gorgeous, smart, too-sweet 17-year-old sister now has a blog. And she's heading to college in the fall. Another wrinkle just appeared on my face as I typed that. Sigh.
I'm planning some yummy welcome-home-and-feel-better dishes for my dear friend Julie, who's recovering in the hospital from a ruptured appendix that very nearly killed her. Julie, hon, tell me this is not part of the training for your marathon run. :-P
Is it bad to stuff your princesses with brownies and declare a pajama party movie marathon on a snow day? I should probably make them practice their differential equations, translate Latin text and mop the floors, huh? Fine, I'll give them a break and skip the recitation of the periodic table, but if the snow day turns into days, all bets are off.
Yeah, I know. We'll be starting the movie marathon about 10 a.m. with "Cinderella," then move straight into the "HSM" trilogy. I'll supply the chocolate - BYO popcorn and footie pajamas. Extra brownies for anyone with pig slippers.

My Knight In Shining Chocolate

2009-01-18T22:52:00.007-06:00

Yes, I know my last hubby post was not the most complimentary. Shame on me - I should have known my knight would redeem himself, just as he has done numerous times throughout our 15-year marriage (which is why we're still happily married, BTW - men, start taking notes now).

Last week was brutal. Picking up from the weekend, Princess G got croup, resulting in several nights of little sleep. I, of course, also got a cold, and as a result of that and the lack of rest, was hit with a major flare-up of the genetic disorder I have, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. I have Type III (aka hypermobility syndrome), which means (short version) that while I can bend like a pretzel (Yes, I know what you're thinking. My hubby is very grateful. And y'all are so bad.), my joints aren't held together very well because my collagen is weak. Not only am I easily injured, but I sometimes have "flare-ups" which make my joints almost unbearably ache. Think you're worst body aches with a bad flu - it's worse than that. When this happens, I just want to lie in bed in the fetal position and not be touched, because the slightest pressure can make the pain worse.

Of course, I'm a mommy, so lying in bed is completely out of the question. Added to that, I'd like to keep my part-time PR job, and in this awful economy, we've all got to be in there justifying our existence or we're gone. So, I continued as usual with my week, albeit without the rather upbeat disposition I usually have. Sometimes I can fake smile my way through the flare-ups; this one was so bad it took all I had to stay on my feet. Being cheerful was simply beyond my reach, and by the end of the week, I was exhausted from the pain and getting increasingly frustrated with the princesses for no other reason than being spent.

Believe it or not, ladies, one call to dear hubby to ask if he could take over princess duty as soon as he got home so I could hit the hay was all it took. I got to go to bed by 7 p.m. Thursday night (heaven!), sleep all night long without interruption, and even sleep in a little (OK, 6:30 a.m., but still!). Saturday afternoon I got a nice long nap, and - here's where he really earns his armor - at dinner Sir Knight declares it "Happy Mommy Day" and whips out the most delicious chocolate cake you've ever eaten in your life. He said that if Hallmark can make up holidays, so can he. I wish I had gotten a photo of it, but you know the princesses and I around chocolate - you best just throw it at us and run if you want to remain out of harm's way.

So yes, he does "forget" to take out the bathroom trash until it threatens to bury the potty. And yes, he does sometimes sit there relaxing in his recliner and give me that "huh, me?" look when I ask him to help with housecleaning. And yes, he has the memory of a gnat. Sometimes I wonder how he remembers the way home every night.

But the man does know when to bring home some chocolate for Mama. And he knows how to stroke my hair during a flare-up when that's the only thing anyone can touch on me without screaming. And, despite all his flaws - and, more importantly, all mine - he loves me. In the grand scheme of things, is there really anything else that I need?

We The People

2009-01-14T18:53:00.003-06:00

Look, I don't get political here very often. But I've really reached the breaking point on this one. If you haven't been following the story about our great new nominee for Treasury Secretary who has this teeny little "innocent" problem with tax evasion, check out the latest twist in this disgrace.

People, this is our freakin' country. I have had it. Yep, they'll probably go ahead and confirm this loser, but our Congressional leaders are dang sure gonna know that I know that this is a total load of crap. We may be going down the tubes as a country, but I for one am sure as heck gonna go down fighting.

If you want to join the fight, it's easy to do. Email your senators and remind them that they work for us. If you need help finding your senators, go here. And, I'll make it even easier for you. Below you'll find the text of my emails to both Missouri senators. Feel free to take it verbatim or add in your own flourish - just send them something. Put them on notice. Let them know we're not asleep out here in the heartland. We're watching, and we're ticked.

I am writing to vehemently protest the confirmation of Timothy Geithner as the next U.S. Treasury Secretary. Not only has it come to light that Mr. Geithner failed to pay income taxes for a number of years, it has now been revealed that Mr. Geithner actually received reimbursement for this unpaid income tax while at the IMF.

If this was simply an "innocent mistake," Mr. Geithner is clearly unable to perform the duties of Treasury Secretary as he is apparently unable to accurately figure his income taxes. If it was not, he should be prosecuted for tax evasion - which is what would happen to me or any other average citizen if I had failed to pay my taxes even after being told of the supposed "error" in 2006. If it was an "innocent mistake," why did Mr. Geithner wait until late 2008 to pay the taxes? (For more information on this issue, which is quickly becoming common knowledge that will not be swept under the rug, please follow this link: http://tinyurl.com/7sm78w).

It appears that many of our leaders in Washington have forgotten that, rather than playing with Monopoly money, we are talking about dollars that belong to the people - the people of Missouri and of the United States. It also appears that many of our leaders have forgotten that they work for us - "We the People" are the employers of our senators and representatives.

Please do not be one of the leaders who has forgotten his responsibility to represent the people. Please do not play politics. Please do not trade favors. Please do not sell out my future and the future of my precious little girls for short-term gain inside the Beltway. Please do your job and vote against the confirmation of Timothy Geithner.

A Good Old-Fashioned Pity Party

2009-01-10T23:04:00.003-06:00

Yep, I'm havin' one tonight.

Why? Because this was supposed to have been an Official Girls' Weekend. Not the little girls - the mommies-who-want-to-revert-to-silly-and-carefree-girls-for-48-precious-hours. I was supposed to be here this weekend, enjoying this spa and this shopping with some great girlfriends.

Ah, the best laid plans - so often thrown awry by my dear (and I use that term ever so loosely in this instance) King. Unfortunately, my long-planned Official Girls' Weekend coincided with his last weekend at a job that's been great to him for the past 13 years, but has made six- and seven-day weeks, with weekends a given for working, the norm.

He's found another great job with a great company that (gasp!) has normal working hours. (Note: the adjustment by all of us to this "normal" schedule will no doubt result in some...ahem...amusing posts over the next few weeks. [i.e. AAGGHH! He's at home on the weekends; now what the heck do we do with him?]) But, before he starts this great new job, his old one had to get one more weekend (i.e. pound of flesh) out of him. Which meant that my Official Girls' Weekend went out the freakin' window.

So, my friends are whoopin' it up in the Big B, enjoying spa treatments, bargain-hunting and meals without cutting up someone else's food. And I'm here. At home. Negotiating the Princesses' latest battle over who gets to sing what part in which Hannah Montana song and cleaning up the dog's latest "I'm ticked 'cause you didn't feed me exactly at 8 p.m. so I'm gonna poop in your office" present. (Side note: Why didn't one of you take pity on me and send me earplugs - or a new, non-deranged dog - for Christmas? Yeah, I see how you are. Ungrateful lurkers.)

Once I got the Princesses to declare a bedtime truce and threw the dog out into the street (oh, I'm kidding. I let him back in after a few hours.), I totally indulged my pity party with a hot bath, a viewing of "Dr. Zhivago" and as many M&Ms as I could suck in. Do I feel better? A little. Do I feel fatter? Definitely. Am I going to make sure the King has the next Official Girls' Weekend on his calendar in blood (whose blood is TBD)? Oh yeah.

Back To The Real World

2009-01-04T23:12:00.003-06:00

Yeah, I've been a blog slacker over the holidays. A completely lazy bum.

Man, it's been great.

Not that I dislike blogging. I really enjoy it. But these past couple of weeks, I've just needed to recharge my batteries, sleep late (7:30 a.m.-ish - WHOOHOO!!), complete some badly-needed home projects and, most importantly, play with the Princesses.

I mean hardcore playing, people. Ongoing sessions with their new and complete set of Disney Princess dolls (quoting the packaging:"Including Mulan!" Apparently Mulan has only recently earned doll status, poor dear. Och, the inferiority complex she and Pocahontas must discuss with their therapists.), Barbie clothing store (complete with "credit card" - and people wonder why we have a debt problem in this country?!), and the HSM3 Girls-In-Their-Actual-Prom-Dresses-Just-Like-The-Movie dolls (insert squeals of delight here!). Countless readings of several new books, more than one of which Princess E can read all by herself (looove to watch her read). Board game nirvana with Chutes & Ladders, Zingo and the Disney version of Scene It (seriously Disney, my household is pretty much supporting the upkeep for at least one of your characters - or Chip & Dale at a minimum. Remember this the next time we visit, m'kay?).

And let's not forget the tea parties with the new pastel-and-polka-dotted tea set. I bet I've had 100 cups of "tea" over the past two weeks, along with detailed discussions of upcoming art projects and while watching rehearsals for the next big show the Princesses are planning. The new wireless microphones, "dance cam" attached to our playroom TV and electronic keyboard (thanks, Aunt Kay & Uncle Brian. I'll be sure to have them practice every single time you visit us. No earplugs allowed.) have added a whole new dimension to their shows. You wanna cast "HSM 12," Kenny Ortega? Come to my basement.

So, I've been busy. But now, since we're all headed back to school and work, I'll probably get back into the blog rhythm again. If I don't, though, it's probably because I've been called away to a Command Performance/tea party summit. A Queen's gotta prioritize.

Guilty Pleasures

2008-12-29T23:28:00.006-06:00

Given the hectic schedule the Royal Family has been keeping lately, I've been determined to make the holidays as relaxing as possible for all of us. (Yes, I know I'm delusional. And yes, the sky in my world is a lovely shade of fuchsia. With chocolate clouds and M&M rainbows. I never do anything halfway.)

Anywhoo, we've been sleeping late, watching fun movies, having tea parties, playing with Barbies and just generally being lazy. By "we" I of course mean me and the King. The Princesses have been fending for themselves - they're pretty resourceful when they need to be. Heh heh.

Seriously, though, I have managed to indulge in a few guilty pleasures amongst the multiple viewings of "Kung Fu Panda" and reenactments of Cinderella losing her glass slipper at the ball. I've been re-reading one of my favorite books, David Starkey's stellar biography of Elizabeth I. (Yes, I'm a big geeky anglophile, and I read Elizabethan history for fun. There's that fuchsia sky again.)

And, I've been catching up on TiVo'ed episodes of one of my favorite shows, A&E's "Intervention," which should be named "The 1,000+ Ways to Screw Up Your Kid So That They're Guaranteed to Need an Intervention." Given the backgrounds of most of the people featured on the show, I think I'd be amazed if they weren't addicted to something. It's the total train-wreck phenomenon - it's awful, but you can't look away. I think I need an intervention for "Intervention."

Or, maybe I just need to put down the remote and go host another tea party. Sleeping Beauty always needs a backup hostess for her parties - poor thing can't ever keep her eyes open.

God Is With Us

2008-12-25T22:39:00.003-06:00

As our pastor pointed out at our church's Christmas Eve service, the true joy in Christmas - indeed, the very reason we celebrate it - is because Jesus' birth meant that God is with us. On Earth. In the flesh. In a real town that's still there today. Seen, touched, raised and followed by real people. Real people just like you and me, holding a real, precious, beautiful new baby. What an awesome thought!

God is with us - and I pray that everyone who reads this blog knows that in your heart and soul. If not, or if you want to learn more, read on here.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Ready For Christmas

2008-12-21T21:50:00.004-06:00

So sorry I've been AWOL for a week. Let's just say I've been a little busy. Among the pre-Christmas activities with which I have involved myself (few of which, please note, actually involve anything in preparation for Christmas):

We survived the Birthday Party Extravaganza.
The very next day, we spent several hours in the ER after an unfortunate encounter between a grocery cart and Princess G, supervised (and I use the term loosely) by her dad. (Mental note: don't ever get into a fight with a grocery cart around Christmas. They're tired, they're cold and they're angry.) The good news is there were no broken bones in the foot that got caught and dragged underneath the cart, and she will be okay. The bad news is the poor thing is just now able to haltingly walk again and won't be wearing shoes for a while yet. On a related note, the King is now hoping one of my readers is willing to donate an air mattress to put in our garage and improve his current sleeping conditions. He isn't quite able to stretch out completely in his car and is now unable to turn his head due to the crick in his neck. (Heh heh, snicker, snicker...I mean, poor man.)
Due to her accident, Princess G was of course home from preschool (it's only two days a week, but I'm in the office when she's there, so when she's not there, it's kind of an issue) so I did the mad scramble to juggle the princess/work/meetings/deadlines, yada yada.
It was the last week of dance and gymnastics lessons and school for Princess E, so we had to knock out all those teacher gifts, which of course this year involved me making fudge and brownies for all of them. My initial thinking was that this was a low-cost method of gift-giving in a time when cutting back is a universally good idea. But of course, I neglected to remember that God has a sense of humor and likes to remind me of it at the most opportune moments, like when I'm thinking I have any business trying to channel my inner Paula Deen. I'm laughing on the inside. Truly I am.
But wait, we're not done. Next, the King is offered and accepts a new job. Great news, right? Well, yes, technically it's great. But there's more to this drama that I'll have to wait a little longer to share with y'all. Let's just say this decision involved several late-night, ahem, discussions.

Just when we think we've finally reached the safety of a quiet weekend, the rug is pulled out from under us. Aunt Sharon succumbed to her short but brutal bout with cancer Friday afternoon. We were grateful to have several weeks more with her than the doctors thought we'd have. She's with Jesus now and no longer in pain, and we are so, so grateful for that knowledge, but we miss her, and we mourn our loss.

So, we're limping in body and spirit, but we're making it through. We're snuggling down together, huddling for warmth in these frigid temperatures. (Side note: someone please tell me where Al Gore is hanging out these days so I can track him down and slap that man silly. Global warming, my cold, goose-pimpled tush.) Tomorrow we're planning to sit Princess G on the kitchen counter (with the Queen supervising!) and make lots of fattening cookies, cobbler (wish me luck, Amber!) and fudge. Then I'm on the TiVo hunt to find and watch all my favorite Christmas movies I haven't seen yet, "Christmas Vacation" being top of the list. ('Cause there is nothing funnier than Chevy Chase and a crazed squirrel attack at the holidays, and I need me some funny right about now.)

Y'all stay warm and knock back a hot cocoa or two. And be on the lookout for a cookie-baking report that hopefully won't involve the fire department or emergency surgery.

This One Takes The Cake

2008-12-13T22:26:00.004-06:00

Several of you saw my Tweets (I'm at username MistieT, BTW - follow me!) about my latest birthday cake creation, and I promised to post a photo, so here it is. I love making these special occasion cakes, so what I lack in artistry I try to make up for in enthusiasm. What matters most is that Princess E loved it - and that it only took an hour or so of scrubbing to get the pink icing stains off my hands. :-)

The Great Sixth Birthday Sleepover Extravaganza (aka Yes, I Have Indeed Lost My Mind)

2008-12-13T20:56:00.006-06:00

The scene: ten six-year-old princesses, one three-year-old mini-princess, and "High School Musical 2" on an endless loop for 15 hours in our basement.

Go ahead. Get the hysterical laughing out of the way now. I'll wait...

OK, wipe your eyes and get ready. I know you're going to start laughing again when I tell you this, but I promise it's true: it actually was pretty easy, and it was a lot of fun.

Sure, there was enough high-pitched squealing to make my ears bleed a couple of times. And yes, I do now have a long streak of pink nail polish on my basement carpet. And I am now reconsidering the New Year's Day football-watching party I was thinking of hosting, just because the thought of gearing up for another party anytime in the next six months or so makes me start twitching.

But, it was absolutely a hoot spending time with Princess E planning her "dream sleepover party" and watching her make great memories with her adorable group of friends. It was fun to see them all get so excited over making their mini-scrapbooks, singing and dancing to HSM 2 (over and over and over again), and painting their toenails wild rainbow colors. And it felt great to wake up this morning (okay, it was a 5:30 a.m. wakeup, but I did actually get some sleep - granted, it was only about four hours, but hey, I'll take it) and realize that everyone actually made it through the night with no tears, no calls home, no real drama at all.

Well, okay, there was a little drama. Poor Princess E caught her heel on the edge of her skirt while playing musical pillows and pulled her skirt totally off her skinny little tushie. She was mortified and immediately ran off sobbing to hide in her playroom tent. But this is how sweet her friends are - not one of them laughed at her, and several of them ran after her to give hugs and coax her back to the party.

That moment made all the effort worth it, at least for me, and I think probably for Princess E, too. We have a great family, but we also have been blessed by God with an amazing extended family of friends who love and care for us. So I lost some sleep and gained some leftover cupcakes that need to find a home somewhere other than my thighs. Big deal. I had the pleasure of seeing Princess E surrounded by loving friends who I hope will be around for the long haul and who I hope have great memories of what for many was their first sleepover.

So happy birthday, Princess E. You are a treasure I cherish more every day. I am honored and humbled to be your mom, and I'm truly looking forward to hosting many more sleepovers with you for many years to come.

Music To My Ears

2008-12-07T23:35:00.009-06:00

I love this time of year. Especially the torturing of children part.

Not physically, you sicko. No, I mean the mental torture that we adults benignly call "the annual visit to Santa Claus." Let's think about this from the child's point of view

You're forced to get all dressed up in uncomfortable and usually scratchy clothes
You're made to stand in line without any drinks or snacks - don't want to get those clothes dirty before the photos, darlin'!
A grouchy elf who's obviously been eating all the snacks you've been wishing for pushes you up in front of...
This large hairy man dressed in weird, blood-red clothes and screaming "Ho Ho Ho" in your face while trying to grab you and pull you up to sit on his knee.

This isn't a memorable childhood experience - it's a bad outtake from a "Stranger Danger" video. No wonder the little darlings run screaming. It's a miracle they don't spend the rest of the Christmas season twitching uncontrollably every time anyone mentions the name "Santa."

But, of course, we parents continue dressing them up in outfits they wouldn't be caught dead in otherwise and dragging them out in the freezing weather to wail at the first sight of the Big Red Dude. It's a rite of passage - or just another little memory to file away until they leave your home and begin a long relationship recounting the horrors of their childhood with their friendly neighborhood therapist.

Faithful readers may remember Princess G's reaction to Santa last year. Trying to be a little smarter this year, we skipped the possibility of a public nudity citation and caught him at the kids' Christmas party for the King's company. Surprisingly, neither princess ran away screaming, although Princess G made a pretty wide berth around Santa to get her present, while Princess E submitted to a two-second lap sit before thanking him for her present and getting the heck outta Dodge.

So, we had to make do this year with shrieks of terror from some of the other children attending the party, a few of whom you may hear in this priceless video of Princess G opening her present. Not that I've listened several times to snicker at the sound of the little boogers freaking out in the background or anything. Heh heh.

Of course, once Santa exited the building, the Princesses were all fired up to sit on his "throne." They are princesses, after all. So here they are, scratchy clothes and all, grinning ear-to-ear from a serious sugar high and thankful that, for another year, they've survived the trial that is The Great Santa Visitation.

The Christmas Countdown

2008-11-30T23:06:00.003-06:00

Now that the giant stuff-fest we've labeled "Thanksgiving" has come and gone, we're in full swing for the Christmas season around our little fiefdom. Of course, that also means we're in "Princess E is about to be six!" mode as well, which this year involves a sleepover with not one, not two, but ten six-year-olds two weeks before Christmas.

Yes, I have officially lost my mind. Thanks for asking.

I'll be writing more about the Princess E Birthday Sleepover Extravaganza as it gets a little closer. I'm sure it'll be comedy blog nirvana. In the meantime, the decorations are up (I swear they multiply in storage like little rabbits every year), and we've got a December packed with great holiday celebrations. If you're in St. Louis and are looking for fun events that also help raise money for children's charities, here are a couple I highly recommend - and BTW, if you have any others to add to the list, shoot me a comment with all the details. Hope to see you out and about in December!

Ranken Jordan Pediatric Specialty Hospital's "Shining Lights" event is Sunday, Dec. 7 from 2 - 5 p.m. Besides getting a beautiful family photo with Santa in an antique sleigh by an awesome local photographer, you also get a great look at this amazing hospital that does so much to help families heal after a devastating injury or accident. Tickets are $20 per family - try spending only a twenty on your family and having this much fun anywhere else in town.
Forget mall shopping - hit the Ladue Chapel Nursery School Holiday Mart Thursday, Dec. 4 and Friday, Dec. 5 at Ladue Chapel Presbyterian Church. More than 40 vendors will be showing off all kinds of beautiful goodies, including children's artwork, jewelry and purses, and the kicker is that admission and parking is free. And, proceeds help support the preschool education programs at the Ladue Chapel Nursery School. Princess G isn't a student there, but I'm all for supporting high-quality preschool programs whenever possible. It's shopping for charity, ladies. Sounds like the best of both worlds to me!

The Writing Begins

2008-11-21T21:20:00.003-06:00

OK, so I'm writing. The book, I mean. Also technically at this moment a blog entry, but let's not add more to the swirl that is my brain right now, m'kay?

Is the writing going well? Uh, I guess. Having never written a book before, I'm not sure what "going well" involves. I'm about 1500 words in and I don't think it totally sucks, so I'm just going to claim that as my version of "going well" at this point.

I'm also hiding away from the world as I'm writing and declaring a personal news blackout so I can concentrate. Given the state of the world when I opted out of it yesterday, I can't imagine I'm missing any good news. If anything particularly wonderful does happen, someone yell. Likewise, if I should tap into my emergency survival stash and head for the hills, would someone give me a heads-up? Much appreciated.

In the meantime, I want to hear from you, dear reader. Y'all weigh in with thoughts/musings/horror stories from the last time you did something, to quote Monty Python, "completely different." Or at least comment and let me know that someone's still reading this blog. I am counting on y'all to buy the book, so it would be nice to know I'm somewhat guaranteed to sell at least two or three copies.

And yes, I'll throw in a batch of my world-famous brownies with a copy of the book. I am so not above bribery.

Pressure

2008-11-17T22:17:00.007-06:00

Oh, it is so on. Pressure, I mean. This weekend I'm headed to a condo at Table Rock Lake with my colleague, friend and fellow writer Tammy, but it's not your typical "girls' weekend." We're hiding away with our laptops to write all weekend long - Tammy's working on editing her awesome three-book fiction series for young adults that an editor's already interested in seeing (show off), and I'm ... we'll I'm trying to finally get my book going.

It's in my head (and yes, I think we can all agree that's a very dangerous place for it to be), but until Bill Gates invents the Shower PC (I do my best thinking in the shower. Don't ask.) it's going to stay in my head unless I go hide out for the weekend and write until my fingers fall off. So I'm going. And now I'm worried. My worries in random order:

I don't know how to write a freakin' book. Speeches, press releases, crisis plans, sure - but a book? Shouldn't I take a book-writing class or get a license or pass some kind of test before I start this?
What if I'm a really bad writer and everyone has just been trying not to hurt my feelings by telling me I'm a good writer?
What if I'm only a good writer in (relatively) short lengths but not for a full book? I may only be entertaining for the average length of an, ahem, bathroom visit. Am I doomed to the bathroom book genre?
I have a horrible imagination. Seriously. I'm missing some gene or have some sort of vitamin deficiency. How am I supposed to flesh out interesting characters for a book?
What if I suck at this and totally let my dear friend Nancy - whose life I'm fictionalizing for the book and whose already invested a trip to Mexico in this endeavor - down? Nancy is my biggest cheerleader. She totally and completely believes I can do this. She's poured out her life story to me. What if I turn her inspiring story into a bad Lifetime movie?
Will my dear hubby rebel and allow the children to run naked in the neighborhood while consuming massive amounts of chocolate and throwing scissors at each other if I leave him alone another weekend this year to work on the book?

I've got two choices. I could bag the trip and stay home this weekend, fighting the never-ending clean house battle and running interference between the princesses. Or, I could go find out the answers to these questions.

I'm a huge chicken .... but I'm also insanely curious. And in the mood to possibly fall on my tush - or fulfill a lifelong dream.

Did I mention how much I love pressure?

Kids Need A New School?

2008-11-13T22:24:00.008-06:00

Stuff To Do Alert: If you or someone you know in west St. Louis County is looking for a pre-k through 8th grade Christian school, Living Water Academy is hosting an open house this Saturday, Nov. 15 from 10 a.m. - noon. It's a small school with big academic goals and an even bigger heart for children, and an awful lot of parents who are tickled pink with the small class sizes and array of academic offerings.

And yes, this is a shameless plug for my child's school. Princess E is enjoying her kindergarten year at Living Water, and we couldn't be more thrilled. We're exhausted, but still thrilled. So come check it out - or pass the word to family or friends who may be looking. And come say hi if you do attend - I'll be the one on the computer introducing people to our new school Twitter account - follow us at username LWANews.

See, we're even technologically savvy. I'm tellin' ya, it's a great school. Check it out.

Semper Fi

2008-11-11T22:51:00.004-06:00

The King and I (ah, I have visions of Deborah Kerr in that gorgeously huge gold dress waltzing around with Yul Brenner...sorry, I digress) had the honor last weekend of celebrating the 233rd birthday of the U.S. Marine Corps with the detachment from Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri. Dear hubby hires many of the Marines from that garrison for seasonal work, which allows them not only to get off the base for a little while, but to earn the funds needed to throw their annual birthday bash. (Don't get me started on a rant about how underpaid our armed forces are - heaven forbid we appropriately value the fact that they lay their lives on the line for us to take our freedom for granted. Instead we apparently like to demonize them for doing their jobs and insult their intelligence. See? Mini-rant. Couldn't help myself - sorry.)

Anywhoo, they were kind enough this year to invite us to join in their celebration at Tan-Tar-A - and what an absolute honor it was for us. Our camera went on the fritz during the event, so I unfortunately don't have any photos of the beautiful and poignant birthday ceremony, the cutting of the cake with the sword of guest of honor Brigadier General John A. Toolan Jr., or the stunning dress uniforms worn with such discipline and dignity by the Marines.

I will say I left the event more humbled than ever at the courage, intelligence and strength of our military. Those men and women are tough and disciplined, but also among the most polite people I've been around in many, many years, especially at an event where liquor was freely flowing (those guys can hold their hooch, for sure). You could see in their eyes and their straight backs the pride they have in the Marines in general and in their service in particular. They understand the long and storied history of the U.S. Marines, and you could tell they were eager to add their individual heroism to that prestigious history.

I also left feeling secure, much safer than I felt during a week of "historic change" that's undefined and - once you get past the lofty platitudes and really think about it - vague enough to be unnerving. A majority of Americans may want change, but there's at least one thing we definitely don't need to change, and that's the pride of our military men and women in their service to our country. They should be proud of what they do, and we should be proud of them for doing it.

So thank you to all the Marines at Ft. Leonard Wood for allowing us to be part of such an important event, and thank you - thanks to all in and retired from the military - for taking precious time away from your family so that my family is safe and free. Semper fi, indeed.

The Littlest Princess Turns Three

2008-11-02T22:38:00.006-06:00

Yes, we're definitely in the world of "big girl, mommy, not a baby anymore" according to Princess G. She hit the big three with a bang this morning, delaying her usual "nothing gets in the way of me and my morning chocolate milk" cup to open a birthday present her daddy left on the table.

Her reaction was so priceless - and so Princess G. A gasp of excitement, a huge smile and a big "Ooh, wow! Thank you!" that darn near made me cry. She pushed me over the edge tonight, when she (completely uncoached) came up to me while I was cleaning the kitchen after diving into her birthday cake, patted my cheeks with her little hands when I bent down to see what she needed, and said, "Thank you for the chocolate cake, Mommy. I wuv you." Yep, that's a Kleenex moment.

She's always been a sweetie - a cuddle-bug, a big hugger and snuggler, sometimes to the chagrin of the King, who's had to make room for her in between us at night more times than I care to count (don't tell him, but I love having her snuggled between us). She's also completely and totally a mama's girl - and although I would like to go to the bathroom by myself at some point again in my life, I'm loving every minute of it. Even the hissie-fits she occasionally throws always end with a sobbing "I sorry, Mommy. Pick me up." And yes, I'm a completely whipped weenie - of course I pick her up, hold her tight, nibble on the rapidly disappearing folds of baby fat on her neck and try to sear every part of the moment into my brain, so I can recall it when the baby fat is long gone.

Happy Birthday, Princess G - thank you for being my feisty, funny, fun-loving honey bun. And thank you God, for giving us such a treasure.

All I Ask Is That You Think

2008-10-29T22:06:00.004-05:00

This is not a political blog, it's a slightly crazed mommy/sort-of-professional chick blog that's supposed to be entertaining, fun to read, and reflective of my occasionally skewed sense of humor (my favorite movies include this, that and definitely this - and this guy is one of my all-time favorite comedians. Told ya - smidge skewed. Possibly even closing in on sick puppy status.)

To that end, all I'm going to say about the upcoming election - other than "Lawd have mercy, please make it end soon" - is think.

Think for yourself. Do your own research. Don't be spoon-fed. Be skeptical. Don't take exhaustively-media-trained candidates at their scripted and practiced word. Actively search for the truth. Search your brain and your heart to find out what's most important to you, then make a decision about all the candidates and issues at every level based on what you learn about the candidates/issues and yourself.

To help with your research, here are a few factual, nonpartisan Web sites - toss the drivel both parties are churning out and check these out:

VoteHelp, where you answer questions about your thoughts on big issues as well as their importance to you, and the results show you which presidential candidate most closely aligns with your positions.
Election Taxes, where you can enter your personal 2008 tax information and get an estimate of your 2009-12 taxes under each presidential candidate's proposed tax plan
the Library of Congress, where you can easily check the bills sponsored by, as well as the roll call votes, of both presidential candidates along with your state's senators and representatives. You can also review the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. You've probably spent years listening to what others tell you is in these documents. Isn't it about time you read for yourself the documents that comprise the very foundation of our country?

Once election day rolls around, Tweet about your experience at the voting booth, especially line length, wait times and any problems, to the Twitter Vote Report.

Whatever you do, just vote. Please vote. Many good people died to give you the right to vote. Many more people around the world are living in countries where this fundamental freedom is nonexistent. And many others are fighting and dying right now to gain the right we shrug off so casually. Respect their sacrifices, respect this country, and respect your freedom enough to vote on Nov. 4.

The Tooth Fairy Needs A Bailout

2008-10-23T22:54:00.007-05:00

We've had a bright spot in an otherwise tough week - guess it was only a matter of time until the kiddos made us all laugh again.

After at least a month of playing with a loose front tooth, Princess E took the next step into parental bankruptcy due to orthodontia - er, I mean big kid-dom - and said sayonara to her first tooth.

She was (and still is ) beside herself with excitement - see exhibit A:

We're taking donations to support not only her dental work fund, but ongoing dance classes to relieve her of her uncanny resemblance to Elaine from "Seinfeld." Please help - friends don't let friends have kids who dance like this.

Through The Valley, With Children

2008-10-21T22:48:00.005-05:00

One of my husband's beloved aunts is dying. We found out only three weeks ago that cancer had invaded her brain, her bones, her lungs, even her eye - it was everywhere, and it was spreading rapidly. At best, with aggressive chemo, she had about a year.

One week into the chemo treatments, her body began to shut down in protest. It was too much, too late. Now, she possibly has a week.

We had prepared ourselves for a year. A year sounded like enough time to get those last family celebrations in with Aunt Sharon around - Thanksgiving, Christmas or Easter, when she makes her prosciutto-wrapped asparagus we all fight over, and she holds court at the dining table, keeping everyone entertained and laughing. She's the baby sister of a large family and, as such, the natural "tease" who has never lost the ability to goad her brothers and sisters into at least a mock food fight or a "pinch war" - apt substitutes for the ponytail-pulling and frog-in-the-bed tricks that surely went on frequently while they were all growing up in rural Missouri.

A year wouldn't have been enough, of course, but it at least allowed us to delay the pain, to pray for a miracle and to spend time making memories we hoped we'd be able to live on, or would at least comfort us, after she was gone. But a week? What do you do - what can you do - in a week? And what do you say to little princesses who see Mommy and Daddy crying and speaking in hushed tones, then Daddy rushing off late one night and not seeing him again until the next day, carrying a sadness that, despite his best efforts to hide, he wears like a thick blanket that overshadows his normally upbeat spirit?

We do what we do when we don't know what else to do - we hit our knees and pray, grateful that God is there, bewildered that His plan includes this, angry that this senseless disease runs rampant and indiscriminate, frustrated in knowing that a week is all that is left, and searching, always searching, for what to do and how to explain it to children.

And then we get up, because He tells us over and over that He is with us, He is our refuge and strength, He is a very present help in trouble - and He, despite the world's best efforts to tell us otherwise - can most definitely be felt in our very getting up when all we want to do is crawl under the covers and let someone else take care of it. He takes care of it for us, with us and through us, whether it's in finding just the right resource to help walk us through talking to the Princesses, opening our eyes to wonderful friends new and old who will drop everything and rearrange their lives to help with no hesitation or resentment, or in locating a favorite kind of dessert to entice the palate of a kind, loving woman walking through the valley of the shadow of death with dignity and grace.

Aunt Sharon, I pray that your final request is fulfilled - that God's "job" for you in the next life will be to rock the babies in Heaven. I know I've learned an awful lot about rocking my Princesses - and the fruits of surrounding children with love, gentle discipline and respect - from the way you've lived your life. Be still now, and know that He is here, with you and with us, and that your family you love so much will be okay. Sadder, quieter, and with a very empty chair at the holidays, but we'll be okay. And, we'll look forward to seeing you again someday, as you always were here in your happiest moments, surrounded by children.

Is She Ready To Graduate Yet?

2008-10-15T22:31:00.003-05:00

So we're about six weeks into kindergarten with Princess E - I don't know about her, but I'm exhausted.

I thought kindergarten was supposed to be this fun, let's-get-used-to-going-to-school-for-the-next-16-years (at least) rah-rah time. It's flippin' boot camp, people. Naval Academy plebes have it better.

We have the daily folder check for homework, notes home, etc. We have the weekly list of Spanish words to practice, the math concepts to review over the weekend, and the maps of the U.S. and the world to "look over" as often as possible. We have the contest to see how many books you can read in a month - if you reach a certain level, you get free pizza at Pizza Hut, which seems to me to be in direct opposition to the goals of the P.E. teacher, who has a monthly sports "theme" and seems to have been trained by the Chinese Olympic team in coaching regimens.

Then we have the sign language "songs" practiced weekly to learn new signs, the daily discussions of current events (which of course have to be rehashed over dinner at home - that's led to some interesting discussions!) and the nonstop writing practice. Did I mention the two Bible verses Princess E has to learn perfectly each week? Or the twice-weekly computer lab, which apparently has as a goal having the kids proficient enough to be recruited by Microsoft by first grade?

And I haven't even mentioned the nature walks, the field trips, or the art and music classes and the weekly Bible knowledge quizzes. Or the quantum physics.

Kidding. That's in second grade.

Now, let me mention that Princess E is loving every moment of this. Every day I pick her up and ask how her day went, her answer invariably is "great!" Her teachers are so skilled at making it all fun that she doesn't even realize how much they're cramming into every day.

I, on the other hand, have a main "family calendar" dry erase board up on our wall in the kitchen with all activities color-coded to each person, a Google calendar, a task list on top of the microwave, and a phonics reference sheet, world map, and Bible quiz Q&As next to the field trip permission slips and daily classroom schedule stuck to the refrigerator. I've got a stack of activity reports, teacher updates and "homework" samples piled on a corner of my desk in the kitchen because I haven't figured out where to store these yet, and I've got the Bible verse book permanently affixed to our kitchen island so we can work on the verses any moment we can grab during the week.

It's at this point that I admit my utter weenieness as a mom and bow down to Dana, Adrian and all those other super-moms out there who go one step beyond this and actually, miraculously, seriously home school their kids. I also bow down to Laura, who even though she just had a baby six freaking weeks ago manages to blog more often than I do, take precious photos of both her adorable kids on cute outings around town, and make ridiculously cute signs to mark each child's monthly age milestone.

Y'all just suck - and yes, I say that only because I'm totally jealous of your awesomeness. Or you never sleep and you're taking great drugs - to which I say, "You're holding out on me. Share or I'll spread vicious rumors about you, two ferrets, a gallon of olive oil and the entire defensive line for the St. Louis Rams."

Hey, it worked in high school. Didn't even have to say it in sign language - or quantum physics.

God Made Them Cute & Funny For A Reason

2008-10-09T22:32:00.005-05:00

Here's a sampling of recent quotable quotes from the Princesses, which, given their recent penchant for fighting with each other like two little Tasmanian devils, may be the only thing saving them from being duct-taped to their closet doors by the Queen. (What, I wouldn't leave them there more than an hour. Or three. I'd undo them regularly to go tinkle.):

Princess G wakes up every morning with the same question: "Mommy, is the sun open yet?" And yes, when it goes down, "the sun's closed."

Princess E: "Mommy, we're having a special day at school tomorrow - Egg Day!" (Translation that I fortunately got from another mom before I stayed up all night making an egg costume: They're having "Decade Day" - a 50's poodle skirt works just fine. Runny yellow yolk makeup is not necessary.)

Princess G, when asking for green peas at dinner: "Peas pease!" (Don't quite have that "l" sound working yet. This is so cute, however, that I serve peas several times a week just to hear her say it.)

Princess E explaining playground politics: "All the girls meet under the slide to plan our next moves. We're all superheroes, Mom - I'm SuperFast Girl, Audrey's Strong Girl, Leah's Flying Girl and Abigail's Gymnastics Girl."
Mom: "Where are the boys?"
E (scornfully harrumphing): "Oh, all they have are spider webs. We beat them all the time 'cause we have superpowers. They're scared of us."

Princess G, when told she needs to get ready for bed, but she doesn't want to lay down alone: "You seepy, Mommy? Go get you jammies on, Mommy - you seepy, too."

Like I could duct-tape someone so cute...is Scotch tape allowed?

Mexican Adventure - The Wrap-Up

2008-10-05T22:15:00.006-05:00

It was heaven. Sheer heaven. The beach was beautiful, the pool was relaxing and the weather was almost perfect. And, we actually did manage to get a great deal of work done on what I think is going to be a pretty darn good book, if I do say so myself.

To my friend and co-author Nancy - you've led an amazing life; I hope I can do it justice in the book. I'll go off on another adventure with you anytime. Just remind me to bring my snowsuit to withstand the balmy 45-degree room temperature you prefer. :-P

I wish I could recommend the Marival Resort to everyone, but the front desk staff was so incredibly bad, I'd hate for any of you to have to deal with that on a vacation. I really thought Nancy was going to whip out her black belt at some point and drop-kick a particular clerk across the lobby - and he totally deserved it. The suite was great, the grounds were beautiful, the food was mostly good, and the activities staff rocked, but oy vey, the front desk staff. We heard similar moaning from another family staying in our building (the grandma was a travel agent, and she was appalled), so it wasn't just us. Go to Nuevo Vallarta, just try another resort - there's at least a dozen to choose from.

But in the grand scheme of things, the entire trip was fantastic. If I ever figure out how to finish my photoset on Flickr, I'll post the full set of photos for everyone to see. In the meantime, here are a couple more photos to enjoy, both taken in downtown Puerto Vallarta along the stunning sea wall. Kick back with a margarita and dream of your next vacation!

Mexican Adventure - Pt. 3

2008-09-28T21:41:00.003-05:00

Ah, another day in paradise. Granted, I'm stuck in a continuous icky cough/stuffed nose/blocked ears cycle with this dang cold, and I got bitten by an unidentified bug on the bottom of my foot while in the pool, but hey, I was in a tropical pool surrounded by palm trees and blue skies when I got bit, and I was tended to by a muy caliente lifeguard - how much can I really complain?

We had a big narrative breakthrough with the book today and got quite a bit of work done. Stop laughing. I really am getting serious work done down here. In between the aqua aerobics, the walks on the beach, and the stuffing o' my face with all-inclusive resort food, of course. And the naps. Ah, the naps. It's all working beautifully to clear my mind and let the creative thinking fly off my fingertips.

Note to my employer: if you'll allow me to open a Standing Partnership office down here, I'll be the most creative employee ever.

Mexican Adventure - Pt. 2

2008-09-27T22:35:00.004-05:00

I've been writing while sitting on the previously mentioned balcony because we have been unable to figure out how to get out of our room due to a seriously heavy-duty lock. Exhibit A:

We're hoping room service will hoist a basket up soon.

OK, full disclosure: so we're not still trapped in our room. It did, however, take us about ten minutes to figure out exactly how to unlock the lock - and no, smart aleck, it did not unlock the same way we locked it. And no, we had not imbibed anything other than water. Although we actually might have done better if we had.

Mexican Adventure - Pt. 1

2008-09-27T22:24:00.005-05:00

My writing is being inspired by this view from our balcony, where I sat with my laptop and wrote much of the afternoon. Yes, it is as awesome as it looks, and no, I have absolutely no excuse for writing anything but the next Great American Novel with this to look at while I write.

Where Am I?

2008-09-26T21:52:00.002-05:00

Right now, I'm in beautiful Nuevo Vallarta, Mexico, fighting a cold but enjoying the ocean breeze and the opportunity to begin writing my first book - the memoirs of my dear friend Nancy. She has a story we believe many people, especially parents, are going to want to read - so we've traveled to a tropical paradise to devote some serious time to writing.

I've been AWOL from the blog because I've been absolutely slammed with work and getting into a rhythm with the Princesses' fall activities. Hopefully this "working vacation" signals the end of the manic period and a time where I can really begin to get back into blogging - starting with our Mexican adventure.

Check back for updates and photos often over the next few days - we've already got lots of characteristically goofy things to share, including how we were unable to get out of our room due to a seriously heavy-duty door lock and a bad case of travel crazies. It's worth coming back to read about tomorrow - trust me.

Moo Moo Eeewww

2008-09-14T23:02:00.002-05:00

OK, so I know a good portion of the Texas coast is rubble and the U.S. banking system appears to be on the verge of collapse and the really big news is that Lindsay Lohan thinks Sarah Palin is an idiot (BTW, media people? The day I give a flying rat's tush about Lindsay Lohan's opinions on hmmm, let's see, anything, is the day I need to be escorted to a padded room and sedated into oblivion for my own safety. Seriously, people - at this point, we're getting so far past stupid I'm thinking God should just throw in the towel and hit the restart button on this whole shindig).

Forget all that - let's talk pet peeves. Specifically, my pet peeves. 'Cause I'm just self-absorbed that way. Sue me.

I loathe chewing gum. Hate it with a passion. I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that I was never allowed to chew it when I was a child. Not only was it banned, but I was told each time I asked (because I was an annoyingly persistent kid - which today we just call "focused" but back then was labeled "obnoxious") that "little girls who chew gum look like cows chewing cud." I don't know if y'all have been up close and personal with a cow, but being a backwoods Arkansan (some would say trailer trash - but since I did not marry a relative, never raised any pigs or chickens in the house and still have all my teeth, I reject that particular label), I've seen many a cow chew cud. It ain't pretty, folks.

And, for a not-very-cute kid from the backwoods (I think the particular colloquialism assigned to me was, "Dang, that girl's been hit by the ugly stick one too many times.") I was desperate to avoid anything that was the least bit unattractive. Thus my aversion to chewing gum.

Of course, now Princess E wants to chew gum. Thinks it's the coolest thing in the world, especially when the beautiful, waaay cool, stylish, trendy six-year-old neighbor chews gum. Of course, I've been using the cow-cud analogy on her every time she asks, but it doesn't work as well when 1) the child is adorably cute; and 2) she hasn't gotten close enough to a cow to develop a particular cud aversion. So today, in a moment of weakness. when Miss Waaay Cool from next door offers Princess E a stick of gum, she asks again (yes, she's "focused") if she can have some, and I actually said okay. You would think I'd have taken her to the toy section at Target and said, "See this aisle of Barbies? They're all yours." She was in heaven.

I, on the other hand, just tried to busy myself with housework in different room from the Princess and avoid the gum chewing altogether. But then we had to tackle her homework - and I couldn't avoid her anymore.

It was like the story about the heart of a murder victim buried under the house still beating in the ears of the murderer, who is slowly driven insane by the sound. I stood it for as long as I could, I swear. It's not like she was smacking it or being unduly obnoxious with it. She was just chewing it. And it was just gross. Seriously, I got nauseous.

But, to my credit (yes, someone give me a cookie. Now.), I didn't snap and snatch the offending stuff out of the Princess' mouth, nor did I make her spit it out after a screaming match over her desire to keep it. I got sneaky about it. It was snack time, and of course she couldn't eat my freshly made brownies with gum in her mouth, now could she? Heh heh. The gum had to go, but with a square of chocolate heaven to appease her, Princess E was happy. And, I survived yet another day without a heavy dose of antipsychotics.

Anyone got a cow for hire? I need to schedule some aversion therapy for the Princesses before that neighbor chick visits again.

We Must Remember

2008-09-11T22:52:00.002-05:00

Every year for the past seven years, I've cried my way through this day. I don't want to cry any more today, so instead of writing any more myself, I'm going to send you on over to one of my favorite bloggers, Mamalogues, to read not only her great post but all the incredibly moving comments.

Read...and remember. Then get down on your knees and pray to God that it never happens again. That's where I'm spending my night.

Wanted: An "Extreme" Home And Your "Extreme" Help

2008-09-11T22:26:00.005-05:00

Ty Pennington, the ABC cameras and the entire “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition” crew just rolled out of town after making a dream come true for a very deserving family and a special coffee-shop owner in St. Louis.

Don’t go far, Ty. We need you back.

Ranken Jordan Pediatric Specialty Hospital is a Standing Partnership client that tugs at all our hearts. One of only a handful of its kind in the U.S., Ranken Jordan cares for sick and injured children who are well enough to leave a traditional hospital but still too ill to return home. Anyone who visits Ranken Jordan’s “wicked cool” campus (seriously, check this place out - it’s unlike any hospital you’ve ever seen) is touched not only by the courageous children fighting through complicated medical issues like traumatic brain injuries, cerebral palsy and complications from premature birth, but the families who are continuously by their side, helping children battle for every milestone and learning to cope with life-altering health issues.

But where do those families stay when they’re too far from home to drive back and forth every day (who can afford that?) and without St. Louis-area family or friends with an extra room? Right now, they either get a hotel room (expensive!), or they leave their children at Ranken Jordan and visit when they can - a heartbreaking option for families, especially when their participation is so integral to a child’s progress.

And that’s why Ranken Jordan needs the “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition” team - or, frankly, anyone who can help them build a “Home Away From Home” for Ranken Jordan families. They’ve submitted an application to “Extreme Makeover,” but since the show gets about 1,000 applications a week, and they just finished building in St. Louis, we need an extra push to get their attention. So let’s rally, people! Here’s what you can do to help:
--Check out our official “Extreme” campaign web page and sign the online petition
--Post comments about Ranken Jordan’s request on web sites related to the show (you’ll find links to those sites here)
--Join our Facebook and LinkedIn groups and invite all your colleagues, friends and family to join
--Follow our Twitter updates through username RankenJordan
--Spread the word - talk, write, email, IM, Tweet, sing, yodel - to everyone you know!

C’mon, Ty. You know you want to come back to the ‘Lou ASAP. We’ll stuff you full of toasted ravioli, take you to the top of the Arch and introduce you to amazingly courageous children and families who’ll inspire you like never before. They need your help.

Cross-posted at Where Do You Stand?

"It's Great!"

2008-09-05T22:50:00.002-05:00

That's Princess E's analysis of kindergarten. In her first three days, she's already gotten her first homework, had Spanish, computer and sign language classes and learned that dawdling over her lunch (she's a notoriously slow eater) means that she won't get to eat everything in her lunch box.

And, she's also been laughed at.

She told a "secret" to one of her friends (it involved a, shall we say, bathroom problem), and that friend - being a five-year-old - immediately told everyone in their seven-person kindergarten class. Of course, at that age anything to do with bathroom habits are funny, and they all started laughing at her - which broke her oh-so-sensitive little heart.

Does it make me a bad person if I want to go wring the necks of a bunch of five-year-olds?

The teacher dealt with it well, and the Princess and I had a talk about 1) sharing "secrets," 2) the dos and don'ts (or the who's and who nots) of sharing personal information, and 3) that you can really make a person feel bad by laughing at them. As much as I hated to see the sadness in her eyes, maybe there was an underlying reason from the Big Guy for the whole incident. Maybe He just wanted her to learn compassion and respect and integrity early on, in a way that would imprint on her heart so that she'd never forget it.

And maybe the Big Guy wanted to teach me a lesson early on, too. That I can't protect her from the big bad world anymore, but I can be there to pick up the pieces afterward, cuddle her on my lap, and reassure her that at least one person in the world knows she's one fantastic kid.

Gosh, kindergarten is hard.

The Countdown Winds Down

2008-09-02T22:53:00.005-05:00

So Princess E starts kindergarten on Wednesday. Although a bit "apprehensive" (yes, that's a direct quote from her), she's beyond excited, especially about taking her lunch in her new Barbie lunchbox.

I, however, am just trying to hold it together until I get out of sight after dropping her off at school.

I was doing pretty well until this afternoon, when we settled down for quiet time and she brought me the book she'd chosen for me to read to her.

I don't know where she found this book. I thought I'd buried it deeply enough in her enormous personal library of books that she'd never find it again. I haven't read it out loud in a couple of years...not because it's a bad book. It's a marvelous book, but I can't get five pages into the dang thing without crying - and that's on a good day. On this day, I was almost hyperventilating by the end because I was sobbing so hard. Princess E was wiping my tears away, saying, "Mommy, don't worry. I'll always be your baby. Will you always rock me?" which of course only made me sob harder.

Damn book. Complete with illustrations of a red-headed kid. Seriously, that's just cruel.

Don't worry. I eventually pulled it together and, with a smile on my face and waterproof mascara intact, escorted the Princess to her "Meet the Teacher" event at school, which fueled her excitement to no end. She's going to have a ball, and she's going to learn so much from a fabulous teacher and her seven cute little classmates. She's going to be just fine.

And eventually, although a piece of my heart is being dropped off at school Wednesday, I'll be fine as well. A little more cognizant of the weird juxtaposition of pride and pain that is inevitable with motherhood, but still, I'll be fine.

I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
My baby you'll be.

Be happy, be well, and always know how deeply you are cherished, Princess. Mommy loves you.

Whiners Beware

2008-08-26T22:53:00.005-05:00

So I know I have at least a couple of male readers lurking out there. Be warned - I'm about to do some wholesale male bashing. I'm ticked. Sue me.

On the other hand, maybe you can help answer a burning question: WHY are men such wussies?

My dear hubby, the King of our tiny little kingdom, is driving me nuts. He has acquired the sinus infection that Princess G has been suffering with for the past couple of weeks, and oy vey, the kvetching (Yiddish is so much more fun than English). This is not out of character for him.

This is the man who, while sitting at my hospital bedside, called his friends the day after the birth of Princess E to describe in detail how exhausted HE was from MY 46 hour labor. ("I've been up for three days, and I swear I'm so sleep-deprived I'm hallucinating." Yes, ladies, he said that to someone in front of me.) If I could have gotten my battered Dixie Treasure and emergency c-section cut-up body out of that hospital bed, I would have beaten the crap out of him.

To his credit, he did apologize later (finally) for that egregious breach of post-birth etiquette (don't men realize that moms alone are allowed to gather sympathy for our birth stories? Jerks.). But heavens to Betsy, this is a pattern that has made me crazy since we got married. The man thinks he's dying when he gets an ingrown toenail. He gets a headache - it's a tumor. He pulls a muscle - he's a prime candidate for reconstructive surgery.

So now he's got this sinus infection, and he's moaning about body aches, asking what medicine we have on hand and generally moping around the house. I should just ignore this and not let it get to me, right? But AAAGHH! I also caught the sinus infection, and like moms all over do every day, just kept going. There's no being sick in MommyLand, dear readers. You just suck it up (or quietly throw it up) and charge ahead. If you've been in MommyLand long enough, you realize it's not even worth it to mention that you're sick, because no one cares. (Actually, that's not true. Your fellow mommies do, but chances are they're pushing through their own quarantine-worthy illnesses and can only offer so much support.)

Added to it, I deal with chronic pain every day. I have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and fibromyalgia, and that combination pretty much ensures that some part of my body is aching every day. (My co-workers may have noticed that lately, when they come in my office to talk, I have to completely turn around. That's because I can't turn my head to the left at the moment.) When I'm having an EDS flare-up, the pain level can become almost unbearable.

But hey, I'm a mom, and an employee, and a friend, and a Sunday School teacher, etc. I don't have time to give into it or talk about it. Yes, it hurts, but there are a lot of people dealing with a lot worse (my mom has rheumatoid arthritis - that really sucks), and there are people depending on me to get out of bed and take care of business. So I do. And I'm sure I'm not even close to the only woman out there who does this.

So men, here's the deal. We love you (most of the time), and we know you get sick and hurt, too. And we'll take care of you when you need it. But make sure it's when you really need it. And ask the woman in your life how she's doing every once in a while, but make sure you pay attention long enough to really hear the answer. You just might make her life a little easier if you do.

And we all know if mama's happy, everybody's happy. And we all know what "happy" means, right? (Long pause.) Yes, that is what it means. You're welcome.

Come Dancin'

2008-08-24T23:47:00.003-05:00

Yes, I'm using my blog to shamelessly promote the dance classes I'm teaching this fall. Mama needs a new pair of shoes (actually new car tires and home siding - whoohoo, I'm a party animal!), and as entertaining as this blog may be, it ain't payin' the bills - so indulge me for a moment.

If you know of a middle- or high-school dancer wanting to take fun and fast-paced pom, jazz or hip hop classes from someone who has a pretty good track record with dance team instruction, I'm teaching Monday and Tuesday nights starting Sept. 2 at Briscuso Dance Studio in Manchester. You can check out all the info and the complete schedule here.

And, I'd love to teach an adult hip hop class, but I need at least five or six people who can attend regularly before I can set up the class - so if you're interested, let me know. It's fun and a great workout - and only mildly painful. Usually.

Let The Store Bans Continue

2008-08-20T22:45:00.004-05:00

Y'all may remember when I had to switch grocery stores for a while. I guess we all knew it was destined to happen again, but this time it's much, much worse - it happened at...gasp!...Target.

I know. It's heartbreaking, truly heartbreaking.

Princess G had just about mastered potty training, so much so that we went to Target for the Grand Choosing-O'-The-New-Panties ceremony that is the gold medal moment, so to speak, of the Potty Training Olympics. It also was her first time going out to a store sans pull-up, so I was prepared. We'd gone potty right before leaving the house, and I had extra panties and a Ziploc bag in the diaper (actually just clean clothes & wipes) bag, but given how well she'd been doing the past few days, I felt confident we could do it.

That confidence, of course, is the kiss of death in Mommy-land.

Princess G goes marching down the Target aisle, new packages of Disney Princess (what else?) panties in hand, just proud as punch. I stopped to look at something, only to hear Princess E scream, "Mom, she's tinkling!"

Yep, poor Princess G was standing in the middle of a huge puddle, still clutching the prized panties, bottom lip quivering and eyes starting to fill with tears. "Mommy, I tinkled," she said with such sadness you'd have thought she'd just peed on Cinderella herself.

I rushed to give her a hug, lift her out of the puddle and assure her that everything was okay and we'd get her changed and dry in a jiffy. But of course, I also had to figure out how to clean up the huge puddle on the floor. Fortunately, this was Target - lots of employees around in easily spotted bright red shirts. Of course, the two closest to us happened to be about ten minutes out of diapers themselves - and both of them gave me this "Eeewww" look when I told them what happened while profusely apologizing. One ambled off to get the cleaning equipment, while the other called for "cleaning backup" on her walkie-talkie and walked over to see the damage, the sight of which caused another little sneer to appear on her face. Fortunately, Princess G didn't notice the brat...excuse me, I mean, employee...or she would have felt even worse about her accident.

I didn't even stay to see the full cleanup - I just got the Princess to the restroom, got her all cleaned up and changed, bought our new panties and headed out. Princess G recovered nicely, especially after downing a chocolate milkshake, which we all know fixes just about everything when you're two (pretty good for what ails you when you're 38, actually). We'll be heading to the other area Target for the next few weeks, just to be sure we're not on some Cleaning Crew Hit List at that particular store.

And for the charming and sympathetic teenage employees we encountered, I wish for them a future filled with a little more compassion, a couple of new mops...and two-year-old triplets with seriously full bladders.

I Am Officially An Olympics Geek

2008-08-16T22:44:00.003-05:00

Yes, I'm once again a bad blogger. I should have warned y'all before - I so love the Olympics that I've been staying up way too late, watching pretty much any sport NBC is putting in front of my face, and loving every minute of it. I'd like to say I'll try to be better about blogging this week, but truth is, I'll probably spend most of my late nights jumping up and down in front of the TV cheering somebody on to a gold medal in something. I don't care what. Heck, I spent half an hour today watching the women's badminton final. Trust me, check it out - you'll duck just watching them knock the snot out of that shuttlecock.

If you want to experience my Olympic dorkiness in real time, head on over to Twitter and follow me - I'm MistieT over there. I'm sure anyone following me Thursday night during the women's gymnastics all-around was laughing - if it's possible to hyperventilate on Twitter, I was doing it. Can you tell by now I'm not above personal humiliation just to entertain you people?

Anyhoo, here are my favorite moments from the Games so far. If I was smarter, I'd know how to link the videos of all these moments for you, but this is the best I can do - a quick search will pull up any of the moments I've chosen.

Michael Phelps' mom at the end of the 100m butterfly - honest to goodness, I thought she'd passed out.
Every game Kerri Walsh and Misty May-Treanor have played - they just rock.
Of course, the women's all-around gymnastics finals - yes, I bawled like a baby at the sight of uber-poised Nastia Liuken struggling to hold it together during the medal ceremony. That was a well-deserved gold medal, and Shawn Johnson winning the silver was just icing on the cake. What wonderful young ladies representing the USA - makes me proud.
Dara Torres enjoying life with her daughter Tessa and proving that life doesn't have to get boring once you hit 30 - or 35 - or 40.
A 38-year-old Romanian winning the women's marathon...yeah baby, 38-year-0lds rule.

Y'all chime in with your favorites - are you enjoying the Olympics as much as I am?

Yes, Virginia, It's Possible To Be Too Connected

2008-08-09T16:40:00.004-05:00

I work part-time for Standing Partnership, which (for me, at least) means I’m in the office two days a week (reveling in my “adult” time) working away and the other three days enjoying “mommy time” with my two little Princesses (yes, that is a deliberate and well-earned capital P). I keep my laptop open on my kitchen counter and glance at emails as I pass through during the day, just to stay up on the latest…and because I’m a bit obsessive that way.

Given my OCD, I thought it would be a great idea to update my cell phone to a snazzy little Smartphone. I had visions of being a multitasking queen - fire off an email while the Princesses hit the playground, catch up on my favorite blog while waiting for dance class to end, edit an important work document (aka play on Facebook) while hanging out with other moms (aka hiding in the restroom) during a playdate.

Are you laughing at me yet? Yeah, I totally deserve it.

You can imagine what happened next. I nearly broke my nose walking into playground equipment while texting someone. I missed the announcement about dance recital shoe color because I was reading a blog entry, thus causing what my family now refers to as the “Great Tap Shoe Meltdown of 2008.” And, I’m now looking for new playgroups but am finding them all mysteriously “full” - I think I’ve been blacklisted.

Here’s what I learned from this experience:
1) Verizon will kindly take back said Smartphone within 30 days with no hassles. (Love you, Verizon!)
2) Boundaries are a good thing.

Every one of my clients - and everyone at Standing - has my cell phone number. They can call me anytime, 24/7, and I’ll take the call. I’ve talked with clients while at home nursing babies, giving baths and participating in tea parties. But, do I really need to have email at my fingertips round the clock? Does it really help my clients to scan RSS feeds with one eye while keeping the other on the kiddos? Was I more productive with constant access to everything I need to work?

For me, the answer was no. In fact, I think I even got a little less productive, because I was trying to do everything at the same time - and doing none of it very well. My clients deserve all of my attention when I’m at work or when there’s a crisis, just as my family deserves all of my attention when I’m not at work or when they have a crisis - even if that “crisis” is a skinned knee or broken heart (we take “So You Think You Can Dance” very seriously around our house).

So, if you really need me - or if you know of a very forgiving playgroup willing to accept a mom with a slightly dented tiara and a busy cell phone - give me a call. I promise I’ll be there.

(Cross-posted at Standing Partnership's blog, Where Do You Stand?)

Bring On The Gold Medals

2008-08-06T22:21:00.007-05:00

Yes, I'm an Olympics junkie - a rabid fan - someone who actually watches every event I possibly can. We're talking even synchronized swimming and badminton. I love it so much I even went to the 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City, even though I absolutely detest being cold and would never normally go on a winter ski kind of vacation. I just have no desire to ever strap on a pair of skis and go hurtling down a mountain of ice. It's one of those activities I don't see the allure of - right up there with drinking to excess. Someone please explain to me why it's fun to drink a bunch of foul-tasting liquid, lose the ability to fully control your actions or your words usually resulting in a number of embarrassing situations now routinely caught on camera for worldwide online distribution, possibly pass out, and end up worshipping the porcelain god the next morning.

But I digress. My point is, everyone should experience the Olympics at least once - it was just amazing, and we had a ball (except for the whole thing with my all-time favorite athlete, Michelle Kwan, winning bronze instead of gold and me sobbing all the way from the competition to our room - that kind of sucked). You're probably a smidge late to go to Beijing - and you probably want an actual porcelain god to worship if you get likkered up on your Olympic trip, rather than just a hole in the ground - so consider the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver or the 2012 Summer Olympics (but only if they change that horrifying logo) in my all-time favorite city, London. (If I start saving now, and plan to swim over, I might be able to afford London - did I mention it's a rather expensive vacation option?)

Anyhoo, to celebrate the upcoming Olympics and close out my series on gorgeous Olympic athletes, here are a few images of Team USA (love it that Ralph Lauren designed Team USA's clothes this year!). If you need me for the next two weeks, I'll be in front of the TV, trying to decide which events I should start training the Princesses on now for a 2016 Olympic appearance. (Kidding! Sort of.)

Yep, I'm That Kind Of Mom

2008-08-03T19:23:00.002-05:00

Lately, there's been trouble in the kingdom - Princess E has been exhibiting the kind of bad attitude and diva behavior I was hoping (ok, praying fervently) would stay away until at least tweendom. So I sat down last week to have a talk (cue the "dum-dum-duuuum" music) with said princess, trying to figure out what the heck's going on with my little Lauren Conrad-in-training.

Here's a shocker - apparently it's (gasp!) my fault.

The Princess is tired - worn out from a summer of running around, playing, swimming, etc. And when she gets tired, things get ugly - pea soup-spitting ugly. This has been true since her earliest Baby Diva Princess days - next time you see him, ask the King of our castle about the time she got so mad during a 3 a.m. diaper change she shot poop three feet across the room. Of course, he didn't realize the extent of the poop-shootage until the next morning, when upon seeing poop plastering the walls about three feet from her changing table, I ran out of the room screaming, "Oh dear Lord, what the h$#* is that?"

But I digress...apparently I've committed the same sin many parents today are guilty of - overscheduling. I usually try to get the Princesses out of the house at least once a day to do something - go to the pool, play with friends, go out to eat, hit the playground, etc. Apparently that's too much. I didn't want them to get bored hanging around the house - sue me.

Actually, it's deeper than that, and it's one of the reasons I waited so long to have little princesses. Secret confession time: I'm just don't get the whole little kid "play" thing. I don't know how to play, and I was afraid they'd be bored with me. I dreaded the day they'd want more than me singing "Wheels on the Bus" and tickling their tummies. Well, that day's come -and I knew I would suck at it.

I am aware that this sounds incredibly stupid, but bear with me for a moment. I grew up in an isolated part of Arkansas with no kids regularly around me to play with until I started school (first grade, since at that time kindergarten wasn't a requirement, so most rural schools didn't have them - just keep your Arkansas jokes to yourself - and no whistling the "Deliverance" theme either). I don't know what I did to play before I learned to read, but as soon as I did, I just read. All the time. Needless to say, I didn't really fit in with the other kids when I got to school - I was the poster child for an "old soul." I never won any popularity contests, people.

So I don't get it - the games, the tea parties, the endless rounds of "I Spy," etc. I try to play with them, and play along with their very imaginative games, as much as possible, but I am the worst at being creative, coming up with fun things to do, and especially doing anything creative and spontaneous - ugh. I really suck at that.

I've tried books, websites, etc. for ideas, but they all seem so crafty and involved and complicated - and requiring an imagination I'm just missing. But, like any good queen, I'm soldiering on - trying to fix things before the Princesses require multiple years of therapy. On Friday, we had a pajama day - we sat around, watched movies, ate popcorn and just hung out. Princess E seemed to really enjoy it and seemed a little less diva-ish this weekend. And, I'm going to try to slow August down and just hang out with them a little more. I'm sure they'll run screaming from the room within a day, begging me to take them anywhere for some fun, but I'm going to give it my best shot.

Just in case...does anyone know of a therapist who gives a group rate?

Daddy Comes Through

2008-08-01T23:03:00.005-05:00

For the first time in 13 years of employment, my dear hubby called in a favor at the Midwestern theme park where he lives (sorry, I meant works) to ensure a celebrity encounter for the Princesses. Princess E was speechless, Princess G had the same look she had when she met Cinderella, and I got a moment to thank Vanessa Hudgens for making movies the whole family can see - and let her know we're all looking forward to opening night of HSM3.

For the record, Miss Hudgens is even more beautiful in person, and she was as nice as could be, temporarily abandoning her pre-concert dinner to shake our hands and take a photo. She put on a great concert, too - her very first solo concert promoting her new CD - and it was adorable to see a whole row of her family and friends, just proud as punch, cheering her on.

Thanks, dear hubby - sometimes your job really is cool.

Party Like A (38-Year-Old) Rock Star

2008-07-29T23:03:00.003-05:00

I had a ridiculously awesome birthday yesterday. I can't say thank you enough to everyone who made it great. In a nutshell, I:

woke up and went downstairs to find roses, streamers and balloons on the kitchen table;
found my email and Facebook page loaded with birthday wishes - what sweet people y'all are!
got a great 80-minute massage at this spa (thanks to a couple of gift certificates from wonderful people);
got my annual "Happy Birthday" phone call from my mom precisely at 10:46 a.m. (can't wait to do this to the Princesses - aka "my alarm clock babies" when they're in college - at 12:20 a.m. and 3:11 a.m. respectively. Hee hee.)
had a lovely lunch with the always entertaining Nancy - and had this dessert;
picked up a great new book;
took said book to the pool and kicked back under a big umbrella for a couple of hours of reading (and a short but highly satisfying catnap);
went home and sacked out on the couch until the Princesses and my personal Prince Charming came in - without a doubt the best way to wake up;
ate a massive cheeseburger personally (and perfectly) prepared by the Prince;
topped that off with a large piece of Maggie's Mud cake; then
had the Princesses roll me upstairs to bed, where the Prince rubbed my feet until I went to sleep - and then he went down and cleaned the kitchen. And didn't want noogie afterward.

Ah, it's good to be the Queen.

I Am So Behind

2008-07-27T22:33:00.004-05:00

I used to be a voracious reader. Growing up in the backwoods like I did (and, let's face it, being the classic nerd I was [is]), there really wasn't much else to do. I think I read everything in our tiny school's even tinier library several times over. My absolute favorites were the Laura Ingalls Wilder "Little House" books - I bet I could still quote whole sections from memory, and I have the memory of a kumquat.

So, I was interested to see how many of the books I'd read on the list below, courtesy of this STL blogger - and disappointed in myself for having read so few of them. I'm such a fan of memoirs and biographies, I've really let the whole fiction category go for a long time, so I'm way behind. And, now that the Princesses command center stage, it takes me months to get through one book. I'm hoping that eventually changes - it does, right? Please tell me it does.

Let me hear from you on the books you've read, as well as any "classics" you think have been left off this list. If you have a blog, copy, paste and bold those you have read, then italicize those you intend to read (as I've done below). If you don't have a blog, just give us the number of books on the list you've read.

Race you to the library.

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien (have tried multiple times - couldn't do it!)
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling (half of it - then the Princesses arrived)
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare (okay, so not the whole thing - but quite a few)
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien (see #2)
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma- Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown (I tried, but I thought it was awful)
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility- Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

Pain Is Such A Rush

2008-07-22T23:26:00.004-05:00

Today, for the second time in two weeks, I got a steroid shot in my foot to try to fix a pinched nerve under my toes.

Go ahead - cringe. It's definitely cringe-worthy. I'm still cringing.

Now I have a pretty high pain tolerance - I gave birth with no drugs, for goodness sakes - but HOLY FREAKIN' COW!!!

The first time I got the shot, it was painful, but quick - and not nearly as bad as the cortisone shots I had injected in both knees (one at a time, BTW - my mom, who should have been a doctor, had to leave the room on that one).

This time, however, I should have asked for the pre-shot polo mallet to the head.

Adding to the fun, both the Princesses were with me, holding my hand as I got the shot (I know - could they be any cuter?!!) I, of course, consciously tried to keep a smile on my face while getting the shot, but of course I lost that pretty dang quick. Poor Princess G looked at me and said "Mom?" with such a pathetic please-tell-me-you're-ok-or-I'm-gonna-scream-and-gnaw-this-doc's-knees-off, I had to get a smile back on my face, pronto.

Now I've faked a lot of smiles in my life (I used to teach dance team camps - smiling 14 hours a day battling ridiculous heat, idiotic coaches and demon-spawned stage-moms-from-hell - I'm surprised I don't look like the Joker by now), but that one came from that very special place where moms have this storehouse of smiles - so that you can smile and say, "It's gonna be fine, hon!" as you're looking at your kid's toe half-lopped off by a lawnmower (that was my dear, now half-toeless brother).

Or when you can comfort a little princess who's had her heart broken by a pre-pubescent Mean Girl, while simultaneously squishing the urge to go throw the offending little brat (and her "not my darling girl!" mommy) off the nearest bridge.

Or when you can smile as you drive away and leave them standing in front of their freshman college dorm, saving the sobs for your dear hubby to hear the entire way home (four hours for my mom - my dad's still traumatized, and it's been 20 years. When they take my sister to college next year, I fully expect Dad to charter a plane to stick Mom in for the trip home, while he enjoys a quiet ride home and plans the blowout party to celebrate life without any children in their home.)

I'm now convinced if we could harness this Mommy Power, we'd blow the crap out of this energy crisis.

But I digress - back to the offending appendage. It's bruised and aching - and I have a lovely two-needle-prick bruise (did I mention the needle slid out of position the first time and she had to stick me again?!!!) - and I'll be in sneakers for the next week to try to avoid needing a third (technically a fourth) shot.

If I do have to get another, will someone volunteer to drive me there - and get me seriously likkerd up (in the grand Southern tradition, of course) before we go?

Things I'm Looking Forward To...

2008-07-20T23:50:00.003-05:00

my 38th - yep, I said it - birthday next week. Hey, I'm healthy, I've got two beautiful Princesses, and I only wear one size (okay, sometimes two) larger clothes than I do in high school. 'Taint bad considering the love affair I've been having with chocolate for the last 20 (okay, 38) years.
The X-Files: I Want To Believe - because Mulder and Scully together are hot. Damn hot.
Mamma Mia! - because it may be dumb, but it'll be dumb movie musical fun, and I'll love every minute of it.
reading a book from cover to cover. I will achieve this before the summer is over if I have to stick the Princesses in a closet for one night. (Don't look at me like that - I'd give them a complete supply of Cinderella dolls, fruit snacks and dress-up costumes. What do you think I am, a bad mother?)
the Olympics - even though Michelle Kwan's not anywhere near this one. Sob. (C'mon, Michelle - 2010. You can do it!)
my September trip to Mexico with dear friend Nancy. Oh no, people, don't think we're going down there for fun - we're going there to write the Next Great American Memoir recalling Nancy's 30 years as a high school teacher. Believe me, the chick has some stories to tell - and I promise, you are gonna want to read them. (Nancy, I'm thinking Helen Mirren should play you in the movie version - what do you think?)

What are y'all looking forward to these days?

Olympic Oh-Wow Woman Vol. 3

2008-07-20T23:36:00.003-05:00

Sticking with the gymnastics theme, I'm choosing U.S. Women's Team member Alicia Sacramone this week, just because she's got a real body - not some freaky prepubescent stick figure - and she just seems like a sweet gal from all the interviews I've seen with her. Of course, when I say "real body" I actually mean a body I will never actually achieve, but one I completely admire. Nice to know those kind of calves are possible. :-P

Olympic Oh-My Man Vol. 3

2008-07-20T23:12:00.003-05:00

Gotta give this week's edition to Paul Hamm, who overcame a broken hand to make the the U.S. Men's Gymnastics Team this weekend and get the chance to defend his 2004 Olympic all-around gold medal. Besides, isn't he just an All-American cutie?

Join The Crowd And Feed A Pet

2008-07-17T23:55:00.003-05:00

If you're a pet lover (or even if you're not, just pretend for a moment), I have two favors to ask. First, join ZooToo - a fun online community for pet lovers. When you do, one pound of pet food will be donated to help feed homeless pets in St. Louis. The goal is to get one million members on ZooToo, which means one million pounds of donated food - enough to feed homeless pets in St. Louis for an estimated five years.

You may have already heard of ZooToo - they created the National Shelter Makeover Program offering a $1 million makeover to an animal shelter in need of a new facility. More than 1,000 animal shelters applied, and the winner was (drumroll please) Stray Rescue of St. Louis!

Even if you're not from St. Louis, please go ahead and join - it's a fun community, and you'll be helping some beautiful and loving animals who have gotten a raw deal and need our help. And who knows? Maybe next year your community's animal shelter will win the Second National Shelter Makeover Program!

And the second favor? Please forward this blog entry or the ZooToo site to all your co-workers and friends - we've got some hungry animals in the 'Lou who need everyone's help.

Where Have I Been Lately?

2008-07-13T22:40:00.005-05:00

I haven't been writing much lately. Why is this? Choose your favorite excuse:

A) "I'm not in the mood." - This one stopped working with the hubby a looooong time ago, leading me to move next to "I'm tired, " then to "Making sure your dirty clothes actually get to the hamper rather than a 10 foot radius around it is the best foreplay." Lo and behold, ladies, that will actually motivate men to use a clothes hamper - who knew? Now I've moved to just channeling Alicia Silverstone in "Clueless:" "Get off me! Ugh - as if!" Ego-smashing for hubby, yes, but it does get me to sleep at least 15 minutes faster every night - and that is, of course, worth being called an icy shrew. At least I'm a well-rested one.

B) "I have nothing to write about." - In other words, I'm starting to think too much about this blog and feeling pressure to actually entertain y'all. I know, I know - don't think, just write. It's way funnier that way - mostly because I'm much more likely to slip up and write something really embarrassing. (See answer A).

C) "I'm being lazy." - Uh, yeah. It's summer. Sue me. Y'all aren't knockin' yourselves out commenting either. Of course, that could be because I'm not writing anything interesting, which brings me back to answer B, which makes me anxious, which makes me want to kick back an extra Prozac and just hide under the covers - which is actually just me being lazy...I'm seeing a pattern here.

Don't worry - I'm still more motivated to write than I am to actually do something about my flabby, pasty thighs. Which isn't saying much, considering the ice cream I just shoved down my throat, but for y'all, I'll do my best. :-)

Olympic Oh-My Man Vol. 2

2008-07-08T22:30:00.004-05:00

Ah, Tyson Gay. Yes, his world record pace in the 100 meter at the U.S. Championships was wind-aided, but who cares? He's the guy to beat in Beijing for the title of "World's Fastest Man." Oh, and did I mention he's a Razorback? That's right, he's a U of A grad and an alumnus of the greatest college track program ever - and he'll be joined in the Olympic Track & Field competition by a number of Razorbacks. Don't be surprised if you hear the Hog Call during the Opening Ceremonies. :-)

Olympic Oh-Wow Woman Vol. 2

2008-07-08T21:56:00.004-05:00

How could I feature anyone this week but U.S. swimmer Dara Torres? She sets a new American record in the 50-meter freestyle at age 41 - a record she originally broke at age 15 - that's just amazing. What's also amazing is her physique - this New York Times article details the extensive team of people Torres has assembled to help get her ready for the Olympics, and not only are they good for her swim times, they're also apparently doing a bang-up job giving her a body to die for. (FYI - photo below courtesy NYT - don't sue me - other than an old breast pump and an extensive princess dress-up collection, I got nothin'.)

Did I mention she's also a mom to a two-year-old? Which for me totally explains why she'd want to spend so much time underwater - it muffles the ear-splitting screams of two-year-old temper tantrums so well.

Count me in as a Dara Torres fan. I'm breaking out my old pom-pons for this chick come August - if for no other reason than to stuff them in my ears and pretend I'm underwater while wrestling the TV remote from Princess G to try to actually watch the Olympics rather than "The Doodlebops." That purple chick really freaks me out.

Happy Birthday America!

2008-07-04T17:01:00.003-05:00

It's the most gorgeous day I think I've ever seen on the 4th of July - 80 degrees, not a cloud in the sky, low humidity - just fantastic. It's a great day to count our blessings and celebrate 232 years of American independence - and thank all the soldiers and veterans who've sacrificed to ensure our freedom.

A special thank you to our "Cookie Battery" - the Soldiers of Alpha Battery, 3rd Bn, 320th Field Artillery Regiment serving right now in Iraq. God bless you and keep you all.

And for all of us, a reminder of the eloquence and faith of the Founding Fathers in the opening words of the Declaration of Independence:

When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

God bless America.

Olympic Oh-Wow Woman Vol. 1

2008-06-26T22:35:00.004-05:00

As an astute - but anonymous - male reader pointed out, it would be quite sexist of me to only provide photos...ahem, knowledge-building information...on male Olympic athletes. How rude of me - I apologize!

To rectify that situation, I'm happy to introduce the second part of this Olympic blog post series. I give you USA Track & Field team member Allyson Felix, who'll be running the 200 meter. Men - enjoy. Women - be very, very jealous.

Olympic Oh-My Man Vol. 1

2008-06-26T22:12:00.002-05:00

For all you people out there who think this is just going to be a purely superficial, lusting-over-gorgeous-hunks series of entries, you are so wrong. It's going to introduce you to athletes and sports you might not normally watch, even during the Olympics. This is going to be educational, people - be prepared for the quiz at the end.

Having said that, it's really mostly about lusting over gorgeous hunks.

Ladies, I give you USA Rowing team member Giuseppe Lanzone. Please tell me they row sans shirts.

I'm Rendered Speechless

2008-06-25T23:17:00.004-05:00

Y'all may have already read that I am just too immature (repressed, squeamish, Southern - insert your own thoughts here) to utter the clinical term for what I now prefer to call my Dixie Treasure. I don't care if I've pushed two babies out of it (okay, 1 1/2 to be precise - Princess E got seriously stuck and required a c-section, but you really don't want to hear the gory details), I still can't say it.

So this just pushes me completely over the edge.

I'll make a deal with all the environmentalists out there. I'll be happy to plant as many trees as necessary to counteract my...ahem...feminine hygiene product use if you promise to keep this thing far, far away from me.

And in a true OMG moment, come to find out the dang thing even comes in sizes. Wait, now they want to size my Dixie Treasure? Uh, I don't think so.

I'm sure it's a lovely product, and very useful to women who don't have sufficient access to...y'know...but EEEEWWWW!!!!!

I'm officially scarred for life - I don't think I can even buy Dixie cups again after this.

Y'all Are So Bad

2008-06-23T22:14:00.005-05:00

Here I've been struggling to come up with topics that would really pull all my lurkers out of the shadows and get the comments flowing in - and come to find out all I had to do was put up some slightly nekkid photos of Olympic hotties.

You naughty, naughty readers.

Never let it be said that I don't listen to y'all and give you what you want. Later this week, I'll kick off a very special recurring Olympic-themed entry you won't see on NBC - the first official edition of "Olympic Oh-My Man!"

And I hereby declare myself not responsible if your keyboard is ruined due to excessive drooling.

Eye Candy Olympics

2008-06-21T22:37:00.008-05:00

8.8.08 - the beginning of a couple of weeks of really great TV programming for the ladies. Now, if you're not a sports fan, you may be wondering what I'm talking about. Why would you want to watch the Olympics if you're not really into sports?

Exhibit A - Troy Dumais, USA Diving

Exhibit B - Sean Scott, USA Beach Volleyball

There's also the entire USA men's water polo team, and just to show I'm not biased towards American men, there's the Australian men's swim team.

Ladies, I'll supply the popcorn and drinks for the watch party. Who's bringing the ice? We're going to need lots of ice.

Sayonara Charter

2008-06-19T22:01:00.007-05:00

If you've been a long-time reader of this blog, first of all - God love ya.

Second, you may remember my exasperation over Charter Communications' cable (and customer) service and my thwarted attempts to replace it with DirecTV. Believe it or not, the story has a happy ending - we've finally been able to dump Charter for good, replacing it with AT&T U-verse, which I'm happy to report is awesome and less expensive to boot.

But, in the course of finally bidding Charter goodbye, a final goof-up made it crystal clear that they do indeed have their heads stuck where the sun don't shine.

When dear hubby called to cancel, he told them we'd drop all the cable boxes and remotes off at their offices - my office is close to theirs. The next day, we get a message from Charter wanting to schedule a pick-up time for someone to come out and pick up the equipment. Before we even had a chance to call them back and reiterate that we'd drop the stuff off, I arrive home from running errands to find another Charter message, this time from the guy they'd sent to pick up the equipment, who wondered why we weren't home when he was scheduled to pick up. (Insert hysterical laughter at their sheer idiocy here.)

And that, my friends, is why Charter Communications sucks - because they've yet to master a key component of their name. Ah, the irony.

Prayer Works

2008-06-15T22:59:00.007-05:00

I'm into counting my blessings today - here are just a few of many:

My dad's latest scan showed that his non-Hodgkin's lymphoma is gone. Totally gone. He's finishing up his weekly chemo treatments in the next few weeks and having another PET scan and bone marrow test to do a final check, but his doctors are confident they won't find anything.
Baby Izabela is growing like a weed and gaining more muscle control by the day. She's not totally out of the woods yet, but she's steadily getting better.
The soldiers of Alpha Battery, 3rd Bn., 320th Field Artillery Regiment (aka the soldiers who get homemade cookies and brownies from me every month) are proudly serving our country in Iraq and doing well, despite getting cookies and brownies from me every month. Their leader (whose name I'll keep private until I know for sure it's okay to share here) actually took the time to write the Princesses and I a lovely letter thanking us for the latest shipment of goodies. How cool (and incredibly sweet) is that? I'm thrilled that we can do anything to make their time away from home a little (bad pun alert) sweeter - there's another box heading your way later this week, guys...but besides praying for your safety, we also pray every day you'll get to come home soon.

Anyone else want to share some answered prayers?

Making Memories

2008-06-11T22:17:00.003-05:00

Since, according to my mother, I was an "old soul" who apparently came out of the womb acting like a 25-year-old, I was never very good at being a kid. I don't really get the whole "play" concept, mainly because I was the shyest child on the planet and lived in the boonies with few chances to play with other kids. That, and as soon as I was able to read, I walked around with my nose in a book 24/7.

Yes friends, I was a seriously big dork from a very early age. Had the glasses and braces (complete with headgear) to boot. I was lovely.

Before I had kids, this wasn't a big deal. Now that I have the Princesses, however, I have to be fun - and creative - and imaginative - and playful. Ugh.

As you can imagine, I'm relying heavily on ideas from family and friends (most of whom have recognized my shortcomings and have taken pity on me). Some ideas I can use now, and some I'm filing away for later.

One great idea I'm filing away comes from my friend Melissa (aka "Superwoman"). Not only does she have the best business mind out there, she also has four kids she adores. Although her time is limited, she finds creative ways to make the most of her time with them. One of her best ideas is the "13th birthday trip" - each of her children gets to take a four-day vacation, to the location of the child's choosing, with Mom and Dad only - no siblings allowed. Melissa's oldest daughter, a talented young actress and singer, chose New York City, and they just got back from a whirlwind trip that included a Broadway show, a big-city haircut and an NBC Studio tour.

I'm so going to steal this idea - I love it. I can't wait to find out where the Princesses will choose to take their trips. Of course, if they were choosing today, there would be no doubt where we'd end up.

Anyone have any other playtime ideas for me? Help a seriously play-challenged lady-in-waiting out - and save the Princesses from a snooze-fest childhood.

Summer Sun Makes The Time Fly

2008-06-11T00:06:00.002-05:00

The Princesses and the Queen Mother (actually, who am I kidding? I'm the Lady-In-Waiting here) have been getting into the swing of summer, thus the delay in my posts. Among the items on the Princesses' social calendar:

Princess E's dance recital, which was just too cute. She actually did refrain from coaching while performing this time and did a great job - and she had a blast. Her sister did, too, once she realized that the recital being over meant that the Cinderella costume Princess E wore for her ballet number was now fair game for dress-up games. Needless to say, Princess G had the costume on about five minutes after we got home from the recital.

Swimming with friends, swimming at the local pool, swimming at Swim America lessons - they're so excited to be able to swim somewhere other than our bathtub they'd swim in a mud puddle if I'd let them (actually, only Princess G would - Princess E would stick a toe in, then shriek and run away when she realized the mud might actually get her dirty).

Field trips at school - so far, Princess E has been to the Science Center, Powder Valley Conservation Nature Center and the Butterfly House. And she only goes to school two days a week. Her teachers deserve a medal. And a margarita (after hours, of course).

Next week, there's Vacation Bible Camp at West County Community Church, then a trip to The Muny to see - what else - "High School Musical." (Genius, BTW - golf clap to the Muny producers for putting that cash cow on the stage.) Oh, and don't forget the weekly free kids' movies at Wehrenberg Theatres (hey, it's free - you can't beat free, though I'm sure the popcorn will more than make up for the cost of the movie).

And it's only June 10. Anyone want to be my backup Lady-In-Waiting? That may be the only way I survive this summer.

To Dance, Perchance To Run Offstage Crying

2008-06-03T22:36:00.005-05:00

So Princess Elizabeth just had the dress rehearsal for this week's dance recital. She's an old pro - this is her second year - so not only did she bust a move with her dances ("The Mickey Mouse March" for tap and the "Princess Tea Party" for ballet - how perfect is that?!), she also decided to act as director. While she was dancing.

As she's tapping and pirouetting along, she's calling out directions to all her classmates: "Brooke, go down now!", "Anna Ruth, stop crying!", "Lacey, skip that way!" Never mind that she's spending most of her time looking at her teacher in the wings calling out the steps. Apparently, she felt that even though she might need a little help remembering the routines, her classmates obviously needed more assistance than the teacher hiding backstage could adequately provide.

I guess I should be embarrassed that Princess Bossy Britches was ordering everyone around the stage, and I was (a little), but actually, it was just too dang funny for me to get very worked up about. Yes, I did have the obligatory Momspeak "concentrate on your steps and not anyone else's" conversation with her afterward. But seriously, she's five, and it was funny - and heck, I'm just happy she stayed up on stage the whole time and didn't run off sobbing hysterically like poor Anna Ruth did at the mere thought of leading the group in the skip circle.

Hey, I didn't say the Princess was a particularly good director - but she was way cuter than Steven Spielberg ever thought about being. Check out the curls that she spent all night sleeping on foam rollers to get - Martin Scorsese's got nothin' on my baby.

Quit Yer Whining

2008-05-31T23:38:00.002-05:00

So last time I blogged, I whined about how much I'd been working and how totally pooped I was.

What a wuss.

Yeah, it was a tough week - from my perspective. But what God often likes to slap me upside the head with is reminders of how blessed I really am and how my "tough week" doesn't even touch what some people are going through.

Our friends John and Lucy tried for years to have a second child. They were thrilled to find out they were expecting and due around July 4th. But, Lucy went into labor early and delivered little Izabela Roza by emergency c-section at 33 weeks on May 10. Four days later, Izabela was transferred to St. Louis Children's Hospital. She's still there, continuing to receive treatment for a serious brain bleed. You can learn more about Izabela and see photos of this beautiful baby here.

Please join me in praying for Izabela and her family - and if you are part of a prayer network or group, please ask them to pray as well. And please support the March of Dimes in their efforts to find the reasons for and the methods of reducing the number of premature births - they are skyrocketing in the U.S. for reasons that are still unclear.

I'll also be (once again) praying for what I seem to regularly lose - perspective. It's a good thing that God is very patient, or he would have gotten sick of me a long time ago.

I Got Nothin'

2008-05-27T21:45:00.003-05:00

I've been silent lately, dear readers, because I'm all worded out. I'm pooped. I'm dang sick of typing, and I'm so brain-fried I've felt that I couldn't write something even remotely entertaining.

I've had back-to-back big ole' intensive writing projects at work. Since it's me and the Princesses on our own because our King is living at his job (for reasons he can't help, it's even worse than usual), if I don't get enough time to write during the two days I'm in the office (and I never, ever do), then I'm writing late at night after the Princesses put their bedazzled little noggins to bed. With almost no sleep over the past few days, I'm surviving on Coca-Cola and chocolate right now (I swear this latest project has added five pounds specifically to my tush).

So I guess this entry is just me whining. How pathetic. Let me get some sleep and get over myself. In the meantime, here's a quick cultural fix: check out BBC America - according to my latest Entertainment Weekly they've got digitally remastered versions of "Monty Python's Flying Circus" - love it. If you've never experienced Monty Python, check out one of my all-time favorite skits - the Dead Parrot Sketch. Enjoy!

Today Preschool - Tomorrow the World

2008-05-21T22:48:00.004-05:00

Last night Princess Elizabeth proudly celebrated a great achievement - her first graduation. She and her Junior Kindergarten classmates marched across the stage in their little red graduation caps, accepted their diplomas and smiled for the camera like old pros, then sang "Kindergarten Rock 'n Roll" complete with sunglasses and air guitars.

It was so dang precious I, of course, sobbed like a baby.

I heard a quote last week that rings oh so true to me now - "All change involves loss, and the loss must be mourned." Like every other mom there last night, I was absolutely thrilled that Princess E achieved this milestone, but oh, how it hurt at the same time. I couldn't help flashing back to memories of bringing her home from the hospital and flashing forward to all the graduations I pray she has in her future.

But I also couldn't help mourning the loss of that baby who snuggled in so close when I nursed her, and the toddler who wanted to watch "Shrek" 375 times a day, or the preschooler who was rather annoyed at first when we brought home Princess Grace to share her castle, and so proud when she learned to read her first word. As much as I'm thrilled she's ready to go to the Big K, I know it means a big jump into sleepovers, softball games and school uniforms. And I know she'll be jumping into high school in what will seem to be the blink of an eye...and that means she's jumping away from me.

So she'll jump...and I'll grieve, quietly. But I'll also celebrate her achievements and keep trying very, very hard to cherish every moment I can and build a stack of memories that will stay with me, even as the princess jumps away. Hopefully someday she'll jump back from whatever wonderful place she lands and want to hear all about her junior kindergarten graduation - and hopefully I'll still be here to tell her all about her polka-dotted dress that perfectly matched her first "big girl" necklace (a gift from the King & Queen), her little red graduation cap, and her killer air guitar performance.

Let's just keep the sobbing mommy part between us, okay? Gotta maintain my street cred, or we'll have anarchy in the kingdom before sundown. :-P

Defensive Driving...Me? Who's Defensive?

2008-05-18T23:47:00.004-05:00

Regular readers will remember I had a bit o' a car crash back in January...uh, make that a complete destruction of my car. No injuries, thank God, so we replaced the car and went on about our business....except for this little court-imposed requirement called Defensive Driving School.

To avoid getting any points on my license (and paying way more in insurance fees), I signed up for a one-day driving school course. Yep, me and about 20 speed-freak teenage boys sat in a claustrophobic little room for six hours on the first really nice spring day of the whole flippin' year and re-learned how to drive, courtesy of a lovely 8-part video program from AAA. Sigh.

I have to admit I went in with a really bad attitude (oh, like you wouldn't!), but I seriously ended up learning some interesting tidbits from a well-designed AAA program. For instance:

Did you know that in the first year after Canada enacted its mandatory headlights on at all times law (OK, so I don't know the actual name of the law, but you get the picture), frontal crash fatalities went down by 28 percent?
The correct way to position your car's side mirrors is to sit in the driver's seat and rest your head on the driver's side window, then adjust the left mirror so that you just see the teeniest little bit of your car. For the right mirror, lean over so your head is in line with the rear view mirror and do the same adjustment. Once you've adjusted the mirrors this way, it takes a bit of getting used to (you'll think the mirrors are way out of whack at first), but then you'll realize how much more of the area around you is visible with properly adjusted mirrors.
A first-time DWI offense in St. Louis County will cost you between $3,000-$5,000 in legal fees, court costs, etc. If the whole "Maybe I shouldn't drive and put myself and others in imminent danger of dying" doesn't stop you from driving drunk, the potential of draining your bank account by five grand might.
And finally, if you're clocked at 105 MPH on Manchester Road, you're going to be sitting through multiple Saturday Defensive Driving School classes (that last bit of info courtesy of one of my testosterone-laden classmates).

Seriously, though, I'll definitely be putting the Princesses through the AAA new driver program before they get behind the wheel of their Glass Coaches. Of course, I'm guessing by then gas will be about $20/gallon, so they might be taking the AAA Amish Horse-Drawn Buggy Program, but I think they'll look really cute in those little bonnets.:-P

The Really Important Stuff

2008-05-13T23:58:00.005-05:00

There's lots of crazy things going on in the world these days - earthquakes, cyclones, tornadoes, gas prices, media coverage of the Democratic presidential race - and if I were the thoughtful, introspective intellectual I fancied myself in college turning out to be, I'd expound on any one of those topics next.

But who am I kidding? Let's just talk "American Idol," okay?

It's a train wreck I can't stop watching. Yes, it's sucking brain cells out of me every time I turn it on, but so is trying to reason with a two-year-old who's taken to shrieking and throwing things when she doesn't get what she wants. At this point, I've resigned myself to having the intelligence of a rutabaga by the time I'm 50 - why fight it by watching serious stuff?

Anyway, here's what I think:

I'm hoping David Cook wins, because he's the only one who might make me want to buy his music. Syesha Mercado has a great career ahead of her on Broadway - if I were her, I'd be on a plane to NYC ten seconds after Idol ditched me, which will probably happen tomorrow night.

Which brings me to poor, sad David Archuletta. This kid has a great voice but the personality of my left toe, probably because by all accounts his dad is the stage dad from hell. Even if he's not, the dad's just dang creepy - gives me the willies every time they pan to him in the audience.

Trust me on this - I'm an expert. I've dealt way too many times in my life with the ultimate stage moms - evil cheerleader/dance team moms. They are the spawns of Satan and should be destroyed. They're the reason I will never again judge a cheer or dance competition in the states of Texas or Kentucky. They're the reason I flat out refuse to coach a high school dance team ever again. I can spot those Beelzebubs-in-training a mile away - I'm tellin' ya, that Archuletta guy's totally one of Them.

If Archuletta wins, I guarantee you within five years he'll end up in court-appointed rehab after videos of him in a compromising position with a tub of potato salad, a Weedeater and a llama show up on YouTube. People, this is not going to end well. Do not give this poor child the Idol crown. Let him be gobbled up by the Disney machine and end up opening for the Jonas Brothers on their next tour and co-starring in Hillary Duff's new series - the Mouse will be good for him. I promise.

Unless, of course, Annie Leibovitz gets near him with her camera.

I Can Blather On, Can't I?

2008-05-10T23:58:00.003-05:00

Believe it or not, this is my 100th blog post. God bless those of you who've read from the beginning - I feel like I should send you some brownies or something to repay you for the time you've spent reading my goofy musings on life, culture and the everyday hilarity of raising two princesses.

And thanks to everyone who's joined in since, whether you've provided great comments or just remained a lurker. I hope I can cajole the latter out of the ranks of the anonymous and into giving all of us your thoughts...and yes, even your criticisms. Princess Grace has taken to telling me how much she doesn't like me whenever she gets in trouble these days. If I can take that without shattering my ego, I can handle y'all telling me just about anything.

Except how I look in a swimsuit. I'm on the verge of wearing a burka to the pool this summer as it is. :-P

Baby Fever

2008-05-06T22:35:00.003-05:00

I want another baby.

There, I said it.

I would looooove to have another baby. But, those little suckers are flippin' expensive...and the king of our particular castle works all the time...and I'm not a spring chicken anymore...and I miss sleep...and I already have no time to get my McDreamy fix by catching up on my Tivo'ed "Grey's Anatomy" episodes. With another munchkin, I'd never see TV again.

There is absolutely no good reason for us to have another baby...other than the fact that I really, really want one.

I also really, really want a red convertible BMW, a month-long Hawaiian vacation and cellulite-free thighs, but I'm not gonna get those either - so all you readers who are freaking out reading this (Mom and Nancy, this means you), stop hyperventilating. It's not gonna happen. My head wins this head vs. heart battle...now if I could just win the head vs. taste buds battle and stop stuffing myself with chocolate. :-P

Anyone out there struggling with a head vs. heart issue?