A Taste In The Life

Hide Your Playgrounds!

2012-02-13T09:24:00.000-08:00

This weekend, we took Colby on a play date with a rescue lab who showed him a thing or two...

B & I have been amazed. We've been trying to figure out ways to get involved in our community and, honestly, make friends. I have great girlfriends here, and we have my high school friends and their husbands (and kids) whom I LOVE, but it's been hard to find people in our stage of life-- we've got free time, but it's later in the evenings (hard on kids) or generally lazy (we like going out to eat!).

We've found several great friends through his work and we're looking for the right church for us but, in the meantime, Colby has definitely made himself useful. How, you ask? We now have several friends on our walking route (though we generally know their dogs names before we learn theirs) and we've been going on puppy play dates; Colby has a blast and ends up exhausted and we get to hang out with new-to-us friends. Score.

This is our new friend Matt's dog, Fuji, who ate Colby's lunch a few times in their playtime, but everyone had fun, even Colby who had to get a bath as soon as we got home.

To new friends and new loves. We love you, slide!

Last Night's Dream

2012-02-13T09:08:00.000-08:00

This morning, B woke me up to ask if I was having a nightmare. "You were mumbling and moving around," he said.

No, not a nightmare exactly, but rather a dream.

I dreamed I was on a cruise ship with my mom, dad, and sister. Dad kept trying to sneak into the "gambling room" (as the sign read), which would be so like him not because he was a gambler, but because he liked to think he was getting away with things.

My sister saw Dad's hat and said, "Dad, nice one!" His hat, a wide-brimmed army-green hat read "U.S.S. Maine". "I don't get it," I said. She replied, "We're on the U.S.S. Star; that's like wearing a 'Joe's Sub Shop' tshirt to eat at Frank's Italian Subs."

I think I'll eat fewer almonds before bed.

While the dream was... odd, I can see where it came from. B and I unintentionally celebrated a "memory land" weekend this weekend. We ate at McAlister's Deli (a mainstay during my time in the apartments across the way from it), enjoying our favorite dishes and nacho cheese dip. We walked on Lakeshore's trail, which I did every day for, literally, years, and made B walk with me when he was in town. And we went to the Baptist church which, while not a tradition for us previously in Birmingham, reminded me so much of home.

McAlister's, particularly, brought back a lot of fun memories. I used to go every time I got back from a trip with my job (I even have their number still programmed into my phone). We went some when we lived in North Carolina, but, as B pointed out yesterday, it just didn't taste the same.

Dad was a huge fan of McAlister's. In general, his favorite (fast) food groups were soup, salad, and sandwich. The fact that McAlister's has spuds (baked potatoes) pretty much sent him over the edge. He would always, without fail, order too much. He'd start with his usual, a chicken salad sandwich (which comes with a side; his pick? Potato salad) and then say he'd also like a baked potato with butter and sour cream on the side.

Now, you can tell (or at least I can) by the pricing that this is no basic Wendy's baked potato. Instead of $1, it's more like $3.29. And yet, dad would always be flabbergasted every time the guy walked out with the food and hoisted a heaping sandwich on the table with a bulging side of potato salad and then another add another full-sized plate with what can only be described as the monster of baked potatoes. Jim N Nicks, a bbq chain in our area, offers similarly sized potatoes, but only succeeds in doing so by serving, I kid you not, a potato and a half splayed out on a plate.

As B and I waited for our order, we shared my bucket of sweet tea and remembered the good dad memories and also our own favorites, like how B used to always order the chicken salad sandwich until I reminded him, every time, that he hated it here because it was "too mayonnaisey". Did I mention that dad added mayonnaise to his?

Here's to strolls down memory lane. Happy Monday!

Did You Forget?

2012-02-10T14:54:00.000-08:00

Did you forget what we look like? I can fix that:

It's been a while since I've written much of anything, honestly, and I have to say that I've really missed it. Now I find myself dying to write and yet completely blank-minded. Oh muses, where have you gone?

Whatever. They're still here, the little punks. I just have to bait them out.

I know I told you what we've been up to, but let me tell you what we've really been doing.

B & I have been relishing our time together. We knew that work at the firm would kick up and, boy, has it. He's working at the office from around 8 until about 6:30, then working for a few hours (or more) at home at night. I love having him around and having Colby for him to snuggle on. Seriously, have you tried fuzzy therapy? I might open a mall kiosk and allow people to rub their hands in his fur for a donation to charity.

Generally (amazingly, ironically), I'm not a dog person. I don't like the way my hands smell or feel after I've petted one. I lose patience for things that can't talk or reason. I feel guilt for leaving them alone during the day and I project emotions onto them with an alarmingly high frequency. Just last night I threw Colby's hedgehog in his crate and he trotted in behind (a first!), so I softly shut the door. As soon as I did, I panicked and started to pepper B with questions. "Should I open it?" "Was that too fast?" "Did I mess it up?" We've spent hours on the floor by his crate in hopes that he'll find it a safe space that's his own. B reassured me that Colby could give a damn; he didn't want to stay in the crate either way!

But with Colby, I find myself literally drawn to being with him. I want to lay on the floor and snuggle with him. I'm still not a face-licker (disapproving of the action for myself as either the licker or the lickee, in case you're curious), furniture-sitter, bed-sleeper, or table-food-sharer when it comes to him, but I will brush that soft hair every chance I get and, whenever I do, I swear I feel my blood pressure drop.

So while B works, Colby and I sneak in an extra walk in the evenings, then, like last night, build a fire in the fire pit and await the arrival of Colby's best friend (What? B's way faster than I am, so he's clearly the favored playmate).

If Colby sees us (and, of course, beloved Hedgehog) as his lovies, then, to be honest, I can't help but feel the same way.

Where was I? Oh right, getting back into this "writer" thing. I think I'll work on theme, flow, and not meandering... next time.

For now, we're doing more laundry (hello dog hair!) and actually running our vacuum, but we're also meeting new people, including Colby's best friend, a pup named Milly. They both get walked in the morning and as soon as they see each other, they start to run. It'd be a downright love story if Milly wasn't already heavily involved with a pooch named Moose. Did I mention they're both basset hounds? The ears on those two!

Plus, it's nice to know someone's actually using our front sitting room or, as my coworker calls it, Doggy Television.

I can't complain about our life right now. We could get more sleep. We could eat better meals (though slow-cooker pork is pretty much my hero this week). But the thing I'm most focused on is just being here. Now. I'm looking up and realizing how fast (almost) 3 years of marriage has gone, how fast (just shy of) 6 years post college has gone, how fast (nearly) 30 years of life has gone and I'm thinking not about what all I want to do, but just generally how much I want to enjoy it.

Tonight I plan to enjoy it by giving Colby a bath. Happy Friday, indeed.

iPhone Upgrade

2012-02-10T12:52:00.000-08:00

Verizon Guy: Nice iPhone!
Me: It's my husband's.
Verizon Guy: What are you using?
Me: A Chocolate Touch.
Verizon Guy: You HAVE to upgrade.
Me: I know, it's a dinosaur, but hear me out-- it holds battery for five days even after 2 years of use and spent a night outside in the rain on the driveway last weekend without missing a beat. How can I upgrade now?
Verizon Guy: Hm. That is a good argument.

While he was setting up B's phone, his cell rang with a work call. He spoke for a few minutes then started saying, "I think I'm losing you. You're going in and out." for about 30 seconds before hanging up, prompting me to say, "Well, that's awkward." He replied, "I know, right? Can you hear me now?"

For the record, I really did leave my phone out in the rain overnight on the driveway, so from about 6pm to 1pm the next day. Oops. But it's fine! Long live the Chocolate Touch!

Happy Friday! And Remember...

2012-02-10T08:25:00.001-08:00

When in doubt, it's best to carry all your toys. And a leaf. Happy Friday!

The Good In Blogging

2012-02-08T09:28:00.000-08:00

Just because I haven't been writing doesn't mean I haven't been reading. In fact, I think I've been reading more. As blogs grow, I feel like they've moved from simply updates to annoyances (why do I need to know this?) to, generally, vehicles for good. Good news. Good ideas. Good will.

The last one is what gets me today. Multiple times lately I've seen blogs do good-- real, tangible good.

This family of 6 went suddenly to a family of four over the course of four months. Her blog friends sent up a fund to help her the blogging mom cover the cost of the headstone from her son's dead four months earlier and her husband's more recent funeral expenses, plus basic things, like groceries. The goal was set for $35,000. So far, over $31,000 has been raised., according to the fundraising page. A modest goal? Sure. A noble effort? Definitely. The best part, at least to me, is that you can see all the donations (and kind notes), which show that the largest donation was $1k, followed by 2 at $200, and all the rest were $100 or below, with the majority around the $20 mark. Most people start their notes with "you don't know me". How amazing is the internet?

The Bloggess, a favorite of mine, got press attention for the giving, which was deemed The Christmas Card Miracle of 2010, she orchestrated, which was so simple it was genius-- match people who want to give with people who are in need. She offered 20 gift cards to people who posted that they were in need. She received over 500 responses, some in need, some wanting to give. What started as a happy lark steamrolled into $40,000 of reader-to-reader exchanges of gift cards and straight-up cash donations.

This sweet family lost their son in a freak flash flood incident this fall and struggled to fit their newly-shorn family of three into the life they'd built for four. As the worried about their daughter, friends rallied around the girl's fanciful Christmas wish; on her list, underneath seeing her brother again,was "Meet Justin Bieber." And you know what? She did. Through the power of PR, Twitter, friends, sorority sisters, and hope, she and her parents were flown to a music awards show (gratis), given tickets, and allowed in to hear his sound check. The blogging mom never asked for this; people simply realized, "this is how I can help" and did it.

Don't worry, I'm not turning my blog into an aggregate for hope and causes, but I am mindful now of being more involved. This posts, these people inspire me and remind me that there is an overwhelming amount of great and good in our world, sometimes it just needs to find its mate for that perfect match.

If you're up for being inspired, read the stories above. Good prevails!

Catalog Living

2012-02-07T13:47:00.000-08:00

Do you ever open a magazine and dream that one day you'll have those perfect white kitchen cabinets or that just-so placement of perfect picture frames? Do you ever open a magazine and wonder who the hell lives like that, and how on earth do they have 80 pictures that fit just so into those darn perfect frames? Welcome. We've been waiting for you:

"It took some work, but Gary was confident Elaine would stop whining about wanting an 'open concept' home." ~Catalog Living: A Glimpse Into the Exciting World of the People Living in Your Catalogs.

Long-Suffering Hedgehog

2012-02-07T11:49:00.001-08:00

Dear Long-Suffering Hedgehog,

You are a friend,

a nap buddy,

and clearly a stress-reliever.

In all seriousness, Colby has a hedgehog chew toy that he has never made squeak (and hates when we do). Instead, he sleeps with it and sits to come back in to get it if he forgets to take the toy outside with him.

Dear hedgehog, I love you. And I may go back to Wal-Mart and buy 10 more of you.

Thanks for taking one for the team.

Love,

Colby's Favorite Things

2012-02-07T11:43:00.001-08:00

Pulling on the rope

Hanging by the gate

Getting loved on by A

More love from B

Sleeping on his back. Alll day.

Lunch with Colby

2012-02-07T11:31:00.000-08:00

I would promise that I won't become one of those people who only blogs about her dog, but, well, I can't. Not because he's adorable and lovable, which he is, but because he's constantly teaching me things.

For instance, don't take the curves too tightly on Ridge Road unless you want someone (with four feet who shall remain nameless) to spit up in your car. Lesson? Go slower. Enjoy life. Why hurry?

I say "spit up" because you can't say someone who hasn't eaten all day has "thrown up", because there is, inherently, nothing to throw. Colby's our night-owl eater--breakfast at 1pm, dinner at 7 & 11. Lesson 2? Eat when hungry.

But today, Colby's been teaching me about slowing down in general. I come home for lunch to let him out and play for a while and, whether it's the Vitamin D or the fuzzy therapy, this kid's been good for me. That doesn't mean, of course, that B doesn't occasionally hear about how hard it is to come home every day and go back, and it is. But for those blissful 50 minutes, I sit in silence and read or pet or eat or play, which makes me a better cube-mate back at the office.

Last Night

2012-02-06T10:11:00.001-08:00

This little man got carried to bed.

While he may look light on his feet, Colby is shockingly stout (and stubborn) when being nudged by B at 2am who, finally finished with his weekend work, was trying to put the little guy to bed in his crate.

Colby, logically, had no interest in moving and was likely loving the fact that we'd (assumedly) forgotten all about the "sleeping in his crate" thing for a night. I'm not sure I would've gotten up either!

Just so we're clear, Colby's "crate" is large enough to hold me and is filled with his bed, towels, and about 4 toys on average. This is not a suffering dog.

B working until 2am on the other hand? That may count as suffering. At least the pup stayed up with him, or outlasted me at least.

It's Time

2012-02-03T09:10:00.000-08:00

I've been quiet since July 22nd and, well, it's time.

It's been 6 months and 2ish weeks since I've written, so a cursory catch up is clearly necessary, as well as some form of an explanation.

Where have you been? you ask, if indeed you're still there. Friends, I've been everywhere.

I've been under my house in Florida, where we (and I use "we" very loosely here) finally trapped our friend the opposum while B was taking the Alabama bar, meaning we had to leave our little house guest unattended while we headed for Montgomery, trusting that he wouldn't thwart our fail-proof weight system and make himself at home in our home. No, we didn't leave the AC on when we left.

I've been in Montgomery, where B took the Alabama Bar while I worked from the hotel room and finalized our plans to head to Birmingham as soon as the Bar was over to close on our house the next day.

I've been in an attorney's office, signing legal docs to tie myself to B (again) and to our first home. Happily!

I've been driving a moving truck due-West on I-10 leaving Florida in my dust, but not my rear-view mirror because, did you know? Moving trucks (quite logically) don't have rear-view mirrors. Sure, if you had a rear-view mirror, you'd be looking directly into the front of the ginormous truck you're driving, but it's still odd feeling. When you're moving, you literally can't look back.

I've been calling my sister on my first grocery run in Alabama to tell her that being "at home", to me, means buying the large-size can of Crisco, because I can afford to invest in something I certainly don't want to move. Ever.

I've been unpacking, buying furniture, settling in, and, finally, hanging pictures (um, this week). We love our house. Our home.

I've been getting typhoid shots and taking malaria pills to enjoy an amazing vacation to Nicaragua and Costa Rica. We watched monkeys, crocs, and sunset after gorgeous sunset as we watched the curtain fall on our life pre-law firm and anticipating what the next act might bring when B started at his firm. The malaria pills, if you're interested, were optional, but the lady told me, "If you get malaria and then happen to get pregnant any time in the next year and get so much as a cold, go directly to the hospital because maternal mortality rises dramatically as a result of the virus." B could've cold-cocked the lady, as I'm already a nightmare when sick. Now I'll assume I'm dying, at least for exactly one year post-vacation, when I get a sniffle.

I've been wondering, is it cold-cocked or cold-clocked? My office of editors is firmly divided.

I've been spending some time with B at his family's lake house in upstate Georgia, and enjoying the calm before the (much anticipated!) storm.

I've been transitioning to work back in the office and to B at work with the firm, and loving that we're both pleased as punch with where we are these days.

I've been cheering on Alabama at football games, taking B's Dad to his first SEC game, savoring the National Championship, and, subsequently, mourning the transition of another college football season into (ick) NBA games.

I've been enjoying holidays. Our first Halloween that actually brought trick-or-treaters, even the older kids who came through twice. Another wonderful Thanksgiving with B's family, then a pre-Christmas gathering with all my siblings and their 9(!) children followed by Christmas with B's family and his grandparents. We rung in the New Year with B's best friend from childhood in quiet upstate Georgia with a low-key dinner, Champagne, and football.

I've been researching B's birthday present, a rescue golden, who became a reality two weeks ago when we brought Colby, 18-months, home to his forever home. His fuzzy therapy is the closest I've been to God in a while, especially when I find him napping on the dining room floor and can drag him onto my lap. Overnight I became that person who wonders why I can't bring a dog into a grocery store.

I've been applying to the Junior League (and waiting to hear), meeting with PEOs (another volunteer league for women's education), dining with our fabulous neighbors, hosting low-key dinner parties, and generally trying to get involved with our city, which I love. We're shopping churches and suddenly wondering why they don't have puppy parking.

I've been taking walks with B every morning before work (and sometimes before sunrise), which as been blissful as we've been able to talk about ourselves and our hopes, then watch that come true as our walks changed from "maybe a dog" to "Let's go, Colby! Let's GO!"

I've been researching puppy trainers.

I've been missing you, and this, and writing, and experiencing via this blog. There are things I couldn't write about and, as a result, I let them keep me from writing at all. Suddenly I am the cow in the field separated from the other green acres only by the vent that crosses the gate-less road; it was always here and available to me, I just had to have faith and step over.

Over it (all of it) I am and thus, I'm here. It's time.

Conversation of the Day

2011-07-22T07:16:00.000-07:00

And it happened before 10am!

Landlord: Well, I've found someone who can trap the opossum, but he needs to be inside the apartment to set the trap and can't come back for the trap until Monday.

Me: Wait, does that mean the trap will be INSIDE the apartment?

Landlord: I don't know! Find out everything that you can!

Did you know that opossum are apparently some kind of protected animal? Pest people won't touch them, the HVAC people don't mess with them; rather, they all refer you to a certain, specific pest dude, who should be here in the next 10 minutes and, fingers crossed, will be driving a refurbished ice cream truck with an opossum affixed to the roof.

A passel on all your houses!

Not A Rat...

2011-07-21T19:51:00.000-07:00

A lot goes through your mind when you think you have a rat in your vents. You forget all rational thinking, like the fact that millions of people have rats in their houses or around their mud huts, lean-tos, and other rural abodes. Or that millions of people lived without brick-and-concrete homes for centuries, and they... well, they all died around age 35, but I digress.

Instead, you worry about disease, about their tiny rat skin flakes wafting through your ventilation system (post-filter!) and landing in your food (thank YOU, kitchen vent) or in your bed (don't worry, the vent's on B's side. Sorry B.).

So you're thrilled, thrilled to hear your husband baby talking in the back bedroom. "Hey buddy," he cooed. "He there fella."

I, the still somewhat armed and generally angry lady of the (rat-infested) house, demand, "To WHOM exactly are you speaking?"

B replies, "It's not a rat, it's an opossum!"

Much to my surprise, I actually sighed in relief and got somewhat excited to see the pink little snout sitting contently in our ducts through the vent covering. That was night two. B called me back just now and we managed to get the little guy on camera surrounded by the debris he's kicked up by cleaning out our vents (yeah, thanks for that).

I don't know why opossums bother me less. I mean, they're still mean, hissy little creatures. But you scare them and they play dead. They get great roles, like "Rosebud" in Over the Hedge. And, I nearly adopted a passel of opossum (did you know that's the name for a group of opossum? It is!) when I was three.

My Mom and I were driving to my Dad's office, which held my preschool in the basement (It was a Montessori school, y'all. Settle down) when we saw what looked to be a wiggling mound of roadkill in the middle of the boulevard.
As I recall, my Mom heroically drove our wood-paneled station wagon to my Dad's office a block away, grabbed a printer-paper box, and swung back to the scene of the crime to save (save!) a passel of mini-opossum. That's right, the roadkill, unfortunately, was the mama opossum, and her passel was hitching a ride on her back, leaving them totally clueless why their mama, their ride, was playing, well, opossum in the middle of the road.

I remember Mom driving me straight to the vet (after letting my preschool class look in the box), where we unloaded no fewer than six of the tiny, wiggly, snouted creatures. They didn't make it, I'm told, but there was a valiant effort.

Of course, as I asked Mom about this today, it turns out that's not the whole story.

"You were three," Mom said. "How could I leave those babies in the road after we figured out what they were." She scooped them up and drove them to the vet, leaving them with a hushed exchange, "You realize they're too dumb to drink from a bottle, right?" asked the Vet. "And that they're opossum." Mom's cry remains, "You were three!"

She continued, "We did the same thing when the dog chewed off the leg of that baby bunny. We had to take it to the vet! We couldn't just watch it suffer."

Excuse me? My dog ate a lucky rabbit's foot? Not so lucky for anyone, certainly not Mom, who I'm sure had to pick up the bleeding baby bunny (and the dumb, near-blind opossum), or Dad, who certainly shook his head when the vet's bill arrived, touting formula for the passel of rodent he'd almost adopted.

When I was in sixth grade, I got a golden retriever. Mom wanted a dalmatian, but somehow I won and spent weeks watching the classifieds for a litter of goldens. We had a false alarm at a local farm, where someone tried to sell us a "miniature golden retriever," which sounds a lot like a mutt (not that there's anything wrong with that). But then, Mississippi came a callin'.

We adopted a puppy, who slept all the way home on my lap after crying his way out of the refrigerator box we'd picked up in town. He couldn't sleep in my bed, so that night I slept with an arm and a foot in his laundry basket, hoping to make him feel less alone.

Our beloved dog spent his puppy years bringing home everything from clothing of laundry lines to single running shoes, the origin of which we never did find. Mom dutifully hung the items on the stop sign at the end of our road and, like clockwork, they were always gone the next day, rightfully home with their owners.

Our pup got in his share of tussles. Once with a king snake, which resulted in him being terrified of playing fetch with sticks for over a year, and others after he realized that he was a male dog.

Then, one night our sweet dog limped up to our porch, having lost the use of both back legs.

Sixth grade me (not nearly as cute as three-year-old me, mind you, but still pretty powerful behind those huge glasses) was desperate. "He's dying," I wailed. Mom called the vet, apologizing for the late call, and explained our situation.

"It's just a specific type of tick," he said, calming my Mom. "If you bring him in tomorrow, we'll dip him and he'll be just fine. No permanent damage."

Mom replied, "But what about tonight?"

The vet sighed, "Well, the temporary paralysis will continue until all he can do is wag his tail."

Well, image trying to tell that to a pre-teen. Mom told the vet she'd be dealing with one long night and couldn't we bring him in, which the vet graciously allowed (certainly he'd forgotten about the opossum package we left him years before). Of course, the dog was fine the next day, but I sure as heck became terrified of all ticks.

So I'll leave you tonight, in the warmth of your own home, with the knowledge that B & I currently have a security system in our home. He's nocturnal, pretty quiet, and, if he'd just take a bath, we might just keep him.

When I told Mom it was an opossum, as opposed to a rat, and asked her why she thought I was comforted by this new fact, she replied, "Well, some people eat opossum. Nobody eats rat."

So meet O'Patrick our opossum, and say goodbye to him. I'm ready for him to head on to greener pastures. And I'm pretty sure he's hungry.

Rat

2011-07-19T21:51:00.001-07:00

Note-- If you're a hater of non-PG13 language or a lover of rats, do not read on. Sorry, Mom(s).

In real life, Splinter is not so cute.

Tonight, B & I were awake late, some of us Bar prepping and some of being supportive during the commercial breaks of Teen Mom. We heard a rattling, like pipes expanding in winter, and gave it a pass figuring that our neighbors must be tinkering or moving things around. Clearly we're knee-deep in Bar prep as it didn't occur to us that 1am was a logical time for such type of work.

After a few minutes ("What are they DOING?"), B goes to investigate. Twice. Figure it must be the neighbors, as we can hear them through our guest bath at times. Then I go to investigate, get as far as the end of the table, and make B go again.

Turns out it is coming from our guest bath, but not through the walls. Through the VENT. B points that the vent covering is literally hopping around, shaking and popping up from the floor. He starts to pick up a corner of the covering (PICK UP A CORNER!), and drops it when it moves again.

I close the sliding door so that only an inch shows and peek through as he arms himself with a plunger and tries to see what's going on. In hindsight, what the hell did we think it was? Santa?

I grab a flashlight and squeeze it in to him through the crack in the door. He shines it down through the vent covering and, like a moth to the flame, this HUGE RAT presses itself up against the vent covering, curling its freaky long tail through the vents.

How is it doing that? Is there another rat giving him a leg up? Do we have the world's first planking rat?

B calmly yells, "Holy FUCKtard!" as he peers at the rat, which stretches the full length of the vent, making it at least a foot long, easy, including its tail.

He leaves the plunger there and goes to the weight bench (which I'm suddenly oh-so glad to have in our art deco-style apartment) and proceeds to weigh down each vent covering with a 10 or 15 pounder, which I hope will keep Big Mama at bay overnight.

Let's just say my email to the landlord can best be summed up with "What the HELL are you going to do about this, and WHEN??"

For those of you who don't know me so well, I hate...nature. Ok, that's a stretch. I love beaches (not sand) and swimming (not salt water); I love sunsets (with bug spray) and morning walks (with my sunglasses and visor). I can claim that I camped all through elementary school (what's up, brownies?) and even undertook a week-long camping trip in upstate New York with Princeton's finest ROTC reps, two Eagle Scouts, and several tri-athletes. That's a story for another day, and perhaps why nature and I are on less than super terms these days.

Fact: I once called B, who lived hours (and timezones) away when I found a roach in my Birmingham apartment. The call, and the roach killing, took approximately 45 minutes and consisted of me crying, screaming (intermittently-- I'm no wuss), and almost agreeing with B's suggestion: Call your friend Joanna. Did I mention it, too, was after midnight? Maybe I need to go to bed earlier. But then, I wouldn't have heard the rat, it would've gotten in, and I certainly would've stumbled across it in our recycling after B went to work and spent the rest of my day up on the table cursing myself for not charging my cell phone. As it is, I may go to work with him tomorrow anyway.

"B," I asked, "Am I being too sensitive? Is our landlord going to think I'm crazy and say, 'It's just a rat.'?"

B replies, "Did you see the SIZE of that thing? I know I'm not helping your freakout, but, no, you are NOT overreacting here."

My one positive insect encounter is with Vern, a regular fly who we first noticed on our ceiling the week we moved in. We found it odd that, three days later, he hadn't so much inched from his perch over our couch. As the weeks went by, we realized that Vern had to have had the terrible luck to land on a freshly painted ceiling and, most certainly, starved to death. The only remaining question is whether the landlord painted the ceiling before we moved in. Or, rather, if Vern's been up there for 12 months or four years.

We had pets when I was little. The dogs always fared well, though I somehow convinced a friend of mine that one of our ancient dogs died not from natural canine causes but rather through poison from our (non existent) Chinese neighbors. I begged for a chinchilla but, thankfully, did not get one. "You know people make coats out of those things," my Mom told me.

For the record, it takes between 130 and 200 chinchilla to make a coat, which must mean there are literal farms somewhere of them. It has to be the cutest, saddest place ever.

It was the other pets that didn't do so well. I had a fish from my elementary school carnival that lived for four years (Mom and Dad were thrilled about that, I'm sure), but then I also had hermit crabs, a "must have" after my best friend came home with two from the beach.

Let's just say that the hermit crabs clamped down on my best friend's finger, forcing my Mom to force the pinchers open (and not with dark chocolate or a pint-size chinchilla coat), and then nobody wanted to touch the hermit crabs again.

In fifth grade, we learned about eggs and hatching and... oh who knows, but either way we hatched things in our classroom that year. Ducks, guinea hens, they were all up for grabs. I signed up for a duck and I just know Mom was thrilled when I brought home two, "to keep the first one company!"

The ducks (still cute and tiny) lived in my bathtub for one day, until I realized that they smell and don't take well to soap. We lived on the lake so we moved them out into the large dog pen we had in the back yard by the woods. In hindsight, my parents must have realized that the damn things would take flight soon enough and head for the river.

So I wasn't too shocked when the ducks disappeared. "They must've made a run for the river," my Mom said as we stared at the empty pen.

I was telling B this story in college, trying to explain to him what my life was like growing up. When I got the part of the story where the ducks vanished, he nodded knowingly and said, "Oh right, your dog ate them."

Cue me, wide eyed, "What??? NO! They went to the RIVER! They swam AWAY!"

Realizing that he'd really stepped in it, B started to back pedal, but the damage was done. "Come on," he said, as kindly as he could, "You had a huge dog, the ducks were tiny; what did you really think happened?"

When I called my Mom to accuse her of hiding the cruel world from my fifth grade self, she said, "Oh, the dog. Maybe. We always figured the owls got them." What??? Owls? In my little backyard pen, I'd created, literally, sitting ducks. An owl buffet, if you will.

So, like I said, nature and I? We've had our days. I realize that if B & I ever decide to adopt (or I'm ever questioned for torturing small animals), I will have to burn this post, which I'm told is quite difficult to do. (Technology and I aren't super tight either).

Pray for us, and that rat, who is about to meet his maker, I can assure you that. When you pray for me, make sure to include a note that I won't take a hit for searching "How many chinchillas does it take to make a coat" on a work computer.

PS-- B says that bathroom smells like rat now. Awesome.

Rainy Florida Days

2011-07-15T11:54:00.000-07:00

...make me think of all the things I don't want to think about.

I need to clean the house (Lordy, do I need to clean the house-- the dust bunnies are going to take over!).

I need to file our papers (random banking papers, insurance papers, and general randomness including receipts, business cards, and mailings).

The Bar starts a week from Monday and continues through that Tuesday. We close on the house the next day.

I need to make a to do list, one for here (transfer utilites, pack, cancel library) and one for there (transfer utilities, finalize insurance...)

And I want to write, really write here. I'll get to that, I promise. :)

Just Sayin'

2011-07-08T12:01:00.001-07:00

I'm out of sugar. I need sweet tea. Rum has sugar.

Just sayin'.

Knock Knock

2011-07-08T10:34:00.000-07:00

If you have a few minutes (and a tolerance for a little cursing and husband irritating), check out this post from The Bloggess.

It's enough to make me wish I was less reverent about life in general, or that my own dear Mother didn't know what an internet was. Of course, then I'd lose one of my most devoted reader and probably still not find such a level or irony in an iron chicken.

Home Office

2011-07-08T07:56:00.000-07:00

Our apartment has officially become a home office this week as B has taken a few day to work from home this week as he studied for the Alabama Bar. It's been wonderful! It makes me excited to get be back in my office soon! He works in the back bedrooms (rotating between the rooms depending on which is coolest).

So imagine my excitement when my sister posted on her blog that today is Chick-Fil-A Day! Free Chick-Fil-A to anyone dressed like a cow!

We've done this the past three years and it's always fun. My first experience was in Birmingham, where people came in acting crazy dressed like our bovine friends (you guessed it, "Mad Cows"), as well as super cute sweet babies in tiny spots and ears.

I've tried to talk B into going for lunch so we'll see. Maybe if we hit the drive through...

It is nice having him around, however briefly, especially when I see the delight he takes in seeing a cat stroll across our porch. I watched him go outside, where I heard him meowing to it. When I went to look, he was waving his arms in a welcoming motion with each meow, attempting to usher the cat back on the porch.

The cat, beasts that they are, of course dashed away from him and lazed on our sidewalk, tempting him with her flirting, then darted away.

It's the simple things, folks. Happy Friday (and free Chick-Fil-A!) to all!

6 Towels

2011-07-06T10:22:00.000-07:00

Me: So I was thinking about where we'd stay once we load the rental truck.

B: What?

Me: The rental truck. I mean, will we go all the way to the new house or stop in Atlanta or...

B: Wait, you're already thinking about the details of our move? The one in August?

Me: Well yeah, someone has to.

B: I'm not saying I don't appreciate it, I'm just saying that I didn't realize you were already into the details.

(long pause)

Me: Know what I thought about on my walk this morning?

B: What?

Me: How many towels we'd need between the we moved our stuff and the time we moved out a week later.

B: Seriously?

Me: Yep. I decided on six, by the way.

Typical Conversations

2011-07-05T19:48:00.001-07:00

Me: Hon, do you need anything?
(5 second pause)
B: ...Sure.
(10 second pause)
B: Wait, no. I'm ok.

Folks, Bar prep is definitely upon us.

B has been a saint this year. He's working full time, studying at night and in stolen moments during the day, and also trying to maintain a decent workout schedule (for his sanity) and diet (for mine!). He feels better when he works out; I feel better when I know he's eating.

This time last year, B was studying for the Bar in a different state. We were hanging out at a neighbor's, whose home we were house sitting, and the most taxing part of either of our days was taking Marley out for a walk. We miss that pup!

Last summer, I was decidedly in between work. I'd left all my nanny gigs behind when B graduated law school and was primarly just hanging out around his parents home, where we were living. B studied, I did a little freelance, and we kept crazy, Bar-friendly hours including late-night walks, random meal times, and frequent HGTV breaks.

This year, B's more confident. For one, he already passed one Bar (go B!) and, secondly, he knows basically what to expect. Sure, states are different and exam styles can change, but he knows what the feeling is like.

Last summer, the whole experience was surreal. There are no watches or cell phones allowed. All food has to be unwrapped and in clear plastic baggies (think naked protein bars and hard candy) and, if I recall, the only drinks allowed were clear liquids in bottles. Everything, including your laptop and power cords, had to be in clear plastic bags.

When I picked him up on the final day, he walked out like a normal person. The people around him walked out of the over-air conditioned conference center and began to sprint for their cars. For real.

We're finding out that this Bar might be even more strict; from what I can tell, no food or drinks allowed, though they do have a water cooler in the exam room. No word on if the no-flip flop rule is in effect.

This summer, I'm working from home during the day, making dinners at regular human hours, and trying to encourage B on his quest to get out of bed at 6:15 every morning for an hour of exercise. Let's just say I'm terrible at one of those three. My job also includes supplying snacks (tonight's creation was GORP) and keeping the bourbon stocked (we're no saints here).

In truth, for me, it's not bad at all. The nights are quieter as B studies and I try to stay out of his space when he's studying in the bedroom. When he calls bedtime, I head to the back (which is what's happening now) and we snuggle in for some Tosh.O or, if we're lucky, WEEDS.

Last summer I was obsessed with being "perfect"; law spouses had warned me about the crazies that would take over my husband and, in anticipating them, I drove myself crazy instead.

This year, we're old pros. I'm just looking forward to buying the Champagne (with which we'll celebrate the completion of the Bar, not the passing, which we won't hear about until October or so) and looking forward to our post-Bar, pre-work trip this fall.

Did I mention we close on the house the day after B takes the Bar? Nothing like a little tour of the South to round out a stressful two-day exam!

When you pray, if you pray, say one for B, who's studying for a test still three weeks away, and for my brother, who's preparing to take his Boards on Thursday. As we say around our house with some frequency, "Could you imagine if we had kids??"

We love you, T! Good luck on Thursday!

Beg, Borrow, Or Steal

2011-07-01T12:36:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I went to TJMAXX for two reasons, both of them noble:

1) Purchase regular cotton tank tops for workouts. They have an PC name and, though I say it, actually typing w-i-f-e-b-e-a-t-e-r out makes me realize how horrible it is. Tanks they are!

2) A collared shirt. B and I have been playing more golf and are actually playing a course this weekend that requires collars (stepping up in the world!), so I needed something. I had one once, but I long ago wore it out playing, you guessed it, golf.

Of course, as any logical person knows, TJMAXX is the Sam's of clothing stores; you never get just what you "need" and you never get out for under $50.

In all fairness, I had been looking for a sunhat for our vacation in August (and also everyday use around here-- I'm tan just from morning walks!) and everyone needs at least one maxi dress (I bought two). And a coverup.

The adventure began at hats, which moved quickly enough. Either it looks crazy (and has enough brim to cover myself, B, and any child we choose to adopt while overseas) or it doesn't; fits or it doesn't; cute or it isn't. Five minutes and done.

Tank tops were a bust, as were collared workout shirts for girls. After much browsing in girls, ladies, and activewear, I made my way to mens and, finally, boys, where I purchased a $5 size 16 boys collared shirt. Done!

I found two maxi dresses that were both less than $20, one well under. I grabbed my goodies and headed for the checkout line.

As the lady checked me out, she started talking about her dogs and I noticed that my shoes (did I mention I bought shoes? Wedges. Oh boy...) were still up on the register, which seemed odd. I didn't say anything and, when I got home, sure enough, she hadn't charged me for one of the dresses.

I wasn't going back; we live 20 minutes from the store and the whole point of saving errands to one trip is to preserve my gas tank (and limit driving in general), so I told B and then called the store.

A few years ago, I had a similar experience. I headed to TJMAXX for a yoga mat and a bag to carry it. While I kept shopping (darn sales), I tossed the yoga mat into the carry bag and slung it over my shoulder. When it came time to check out, the lady swiped the bag tag and slid it over.

"Wait," I said, "The yoga mat in there is a separate item."

If looks could kill. She looked at me like I was crazy. She raised an eyebrow and I said, "Look, if I'm going to hell, it's going to be over something way better than a stolen $12 yoga mat." She scanned it, I paid, and off I went.

This time I called and explained my story. I hadn't stolen the dress, but I hadn't been charged for it. Could they add the charge over the phone? I wouldn't be back in for a while.

Long pause. "Well, why don't you just bring it back in when you're back over here."

Once Target neglected to charge me for my mondo-size jug of laundry detergent and every time I used it, I remembered.

This time, I feel better having called, even if she does think I'm crazy.

The best thing is that I wasn't sure I liked the dress, so I figured, well, if it's not on there, I'll take it back anyway and all will be fine (For real, I didn't steal it-- she took the security tags off!), but it turns out that B loves it, as much as he "loves" any dress I own.

So, dear readers, does this happen to you? I'm confident it's happened before, likely all the time at grocery stores, but who notices when there are 30 things in your basket?

By the way, the shoes are adorable.

Actual Conversations

2011-07-01T10:16:00.000-07:00

B & I, while having both grown up in the South and attended the same University, are very different. I fret, he just does. I plan and replan, he he just does. I ask and wonder, he just does.

For instance, I finally delegated the task of home and auto insurance to him, something that was proving more difficult than I anticipated. He gladly took up the torch and has been working hard on it all week. Last night I had a nightmare that we'd basically made up our insurance company and were being rejected for a tiny tiny claim.

See also our plans for moving. We're moving out of our apartment and taking a two week trip. We don't want to leave our car at the airport ($8 a day!), but we can't leave it at our apartment unless it's on the street. Last night, after my insurance nightmare, I dreamed that our friends were now living out of their cars but had to move every night and could never. find. a. place. to. park. them.

Like I said, I fret and dream and rework. B simply gets it done.

So it's no surprise that today, when he gchatted me about rates and companies, our conversation went like this:

B: Remind me to do that when I get home. Here's what people think about Travelers (insert link).

Me: Oh. Hm.. that's not great.

B: Here's what they think about State Farm-- much better.

Me: You're right.

B: And here's what they think about USAA.

Me: Wow. We'll compare apples to apples tonight, or at least apples to apple-shaped oranges.

Me: FYI-- Sam's is selling Saturn Peaches. Basically peaches shaped like donuts.

Me: Freaked me out.

B: Ok, back to work for me.

As I always say, I may be crazy, but he married crazy. And that's a choice.

Learning to Crawl

2011-07-01T08:05:00.001-07:00

I learned to crawl at 65 miles per hour. Or so I'm told at least.

When I was little, I remember begging Mom to "please please PLEASE" just let me go to Gulf Shores for a week in the summer. Why did we have to go these crazy places, like mission trips to Belize, tours through Europe (seriously), and dude ranches out West.

To Mom's credit, she didn't lock me in my room forever; I think she realized that it wasn't me being spoiled (right, Mom? Mom?), but rather knowing that "allll" my friends would be spending a week in Gulf Shores over the summer, and here I was being shipped off to Space Camp.

Don't worry about me-- years of therapy and the launch of my own foundation have helped me recover from the abuse.

Of course now I realize what a blessing those vacations were. At least twice that I remember, and likely one other time, Mom would rent an RV for a trip across the country. She's pull it into our driveway, where we'd spend a day or so loading it with food, clothes, toys, and general entertainment; after all, who needs suitcases when you're living out of your home?

As anyone with Southern family knows, "Memory" is a generous term to be applied to things in your own history that you experienced, experienced but don't recall, or may have experienced, or in someone else's history that you have unintentionally rewritten to now center around you.

As for me, I "remember" learning to crawl on our trip out West in the motorhome. I remember storing suitcases in the shower while we drove, only to park on unlevel ground and have the entire shower flood ruining, of course, Mom's suitcase first, the lowest on the pile.

I remember the family mutiny when it was pouring at the campground and Mom cooked steaks in the microwave. You try telling the mac 'n cheese generation that gray steak is done.

I remember Mom's panic as we literally had to wiggle around curves in the mountains to make it to the cabin, and when Dad had had enough of road living, and we drove that bad boy straight into downtown Boston to stay at the Charles; the bellboy offered to stay with it all night if he didn't have to crawl on top of the roof to take the bikes off.

Perhaps I should back up. Do you know what an RV looks like? Sure, you've seen them on gameday, tricked out with porches and TVs on the side, but have you ever experienced them? On the inside, they generally have, starting from the back, a bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen area (which has a table that converts to a bed), a sitting area (which has a couch that converts to a bed), and two captains chairs with a TV in the middle (which won't work while the RV is in gear), and a sleeping loft above the captains chairs (more beds!). On the outside, they used to be hyped-up version of station wagons: light yellow and loaded with wood paneling.

Now, picture this monster in the lane next to you, neigh-- coming at you on a mountain road. Now imagine it has five bikes on the roof and a Hot Wheels racer strapped to the front, as if this mad machine has already found its morning meal. When it comes into focus, you see that it has Alabama plates. Get the picture?

I remember taking out a tree with those bikes somewhere in South Carolina (at a Holiday Inn, I believe), and Mom having to find an eye doctor for me when I was little in Vermont, pulling up in the gravel parking lot of the rural office in our traveling home.

I remember Dad firmly having had enough, though likely on a car trip later, and bucking Mom's One Suitcase Per Person rule, a rule I now look back enviously since B & I try to back in roll-aboards always, and taking exactly one respectable looking suitcase into the Greenbrier, a place that doesn't allow jeans in the lobby, along with a honest-to-God garbage bag full of other things he wanted to have. "One suitcase," he said.

I remember careening around Philadelphia's only roundabout, heading toward a place where the road would fork. Mom was getting a much-needed break from driving, only to have us wake her up screaming "Mom! East or West?! The road forks!" Mom, who had been blissfully asleep, had no idea what city we were in, what road we were on, or, likely, why she'd ever planned this damned trip, calmly replied, "We're going North to New Hampshire, so go North." This released the chaos in the car-- the road goes East or the road goes West, not North at all. "Yes," she said, struggling to unfold the map (ah, days before GPS), but eventually one side goes up or it doesn't--North is the end goal here!"

Of course, by this time, we'd passed the fork, selecting the wrong exit and prompting us into a Chevy Chase-worthy scene of monument repeats. From the back of the car, my brother piped up, "Look kids: Tower of London! Big Ben!"

We didn't always hit the road on our own. When I was going into second grade, Mom sat me down to explain that I'd miss the first three days of school but that she thought this was a good experience for me and important for us to do. What were we doing? Traveling through Europe for three weeks. I'm sure I cried about having to miss figuring out whose class I was in. Sucker.

Remember your fear of those Alabama plates barreling at you? Let's see if we can do one better: Imagine you're a retiree, or a couple away for a once-in-a-lifetime experience of seeing Europe with the love of your life. Then, the last group boards the bus and your heart sinks; it's a family of six, with kids ages 7, 11, 16, and 19.

Mom herded us to the back, where we sat six-across in the last row of the bus while we rolled through country after country. I'd love to say that I remember being changed forever by the dialect, the people, and the experiences, but what I really remember is limited to four things:

1) A cat on roller skates touched my hair bow when we saw the Midnight Express on stage.

2) A man at a rest stop had a driver's license that had all these weird symbols on it that looked like number signs.

3) I had a Happy Meal in a romantically-lit red velvet booth.

4) Todd figured out how to use the detachable shower arm to soak not only my suitcase from open window to another, but also to saturate some Italian woman's laundry, which was hanging between the buildings.

Mom always told me that she'd rather have memories from vacations than furs and cars and it was her desire to see the world that allowed the rest of us to do so. She used trips to protect us (taking three week trips before and after my Dad's first heart surgery), to heal us (setting up a perfectly-timed, last-minute cruise for my college spring break when I'd just had my heart broken), and to bond us. After all, how many families can sit around grousing over gray steak (Kentucky Campground), purple hamburgers (the coast of Spain), and the time Mom almost starved Todd to death by booking high tea for lunch in Vancouver; I still remember Mom's face when we left this elaborate meal of finger sandwiches and crudites and Dad and Todd both asked where we were headed for lunch. Granted, neither of their knees had even fit under the tiny tables where we'd feasted with stacked finger stackers and tiny cups of tea, for which I'm sure my Dad requested ice and "Sweet n Low, or whatever you have is fine."

It's because of this that we can bond over the low-laying beds in the home we rented in Canada and the time we got snowed on in Candlestick park watching a mid-summer baseball game; well, some of us did anyway. My sister decided to stay back at the hotel and I, desperate to be just like her, did the same. We watched movies on pay per view and got take out. A dream come true!

I'm sure Mom has been tempted, at times, to ditch us all, use those frequent flyer miles she worked so hard to organize and fly to places unknown. Instead, like the time we had a four hour layover from 1am to 5am in Houston, she let the rest of us truck down to the IHOP for pre-dawn pancakes while she slept, alone, in the hotel room she'd booked. I'm sure she thought of leaving us all a few hours later when we finally arrived in Atlanta only to all sleep while she drove the five hours home.

We can laugh about the times we tried to stay in Atlanta hotels after returning from late-night trips, only to find our guaranteed room mysteriously given away while the high school prom partied on in the hotel ballroom.

I now that know, as I look back on how I was raised, I am so thankful that my memories, even the "bad" ones are hilarious and wonderful. I love that I can remember Dad refusing to ski, hating to move hotel rooms every night, and generally just wanting a nice nap and a glass of ice tea when the rest of us were sooo ready to go to the theme parks; yet, he always went and did so happily.

The only time I saw him completely baffled was when he asked for the soup of the day in a restaurant out West, a formality for my Dad because, as my brother-in-law says, whatever they had, Dad would order. However, this waitress told Dad that the soup of the day was Wisconsin Beer & Cheddar. Dad stammered over himself and said, "I believe I'm going to need a minute." She left and he just laughed and laughed.

B & I are starting to plan our own family trips, something that I drive him nuts about on a regular basis. "Where do you think we'll go on our anniversary?" "We should plan to do..." But I know he knows it's from a good place in my heart. The memories that I so cling to from my life are ones I experienced with all my siblings and, due to our age range, that usually meant vacations.

I will say this, I have huge respect for Mom's mad planning skills these days, especially since I have trouble booking a single hotel in a city WITH the help of the internet and reviews. How did she ever find all these places without even seeing so much as a photo?

So, whatever you're doing this July 4th weekend, I hope you're with people you love. And if you are on the road, remember to steer clear of the RVs with Alabama tags.

SATC 2 (See Also: Greetings from 2010!)

2011-06-29T13:51:00.000-07:00

I've never been known for my prompt moving watching or general attention to detail when actually watching one. In fact, it's a running joke in our house that B can study for the Bar, watch a movie, and keep up with multiple games on his phone and still explain to me who "that girl with the curly hair" is running around with a knife. "Don't you remember?" he'll ask lovingly, "She's the one that's the lead guy's cousin and a double agent for the mob."

I, on the other hand, will watch with rapt attention and still not get what's going on until after the fact. Inception? Don't even get me started.

I say all this to say that I'm behind on movies and HBO's free weekend was a huge help... at filling out DVR. B came home and said, "Catch Me If You Can, The Firm, Three Men and a Little Lady...you have the most random taste in movies." I prefer to call it "wide-reaching."

He busted me watching the intro to Sex and the City 2, which I promptly changed to a baseball game ("Oh nothing, just flipping through..."). I waited until he left the room again and found it on HBO later that night (Hello, 2am reruns) and DVR'd it for later.

Later arrived and B again busted me for watching it, but this time he was suppose to be Bar prepping, so I think he actually appreciated that he had zero interest in what I was doing.

So I settled in for a catch-up with my long-forgotten friends. I'd watched SATC a few times in college, when cable-totting friends would invite us over for a night, and then seen them all thanks to TBS.

I saw the first movie with girlfriends (and a snuck-in bottle of merlot) and we'd had a blast. The whole theatre was bonding, it seemed, and without a single man in site.

SATC 2 didn't motivate me to the theatre, especially when it was panned, but it did pull me in that rainy Sunday afternoon on the couch. Ok, it was 90 and beautiful here, but doesn't it sound easier to stay inside when it's raining?

I watched it, prepared for the worst, and found it just... ok. I understood how people thought it showed the worst of the American traveler; they're staying in a 22K-per-night suite in Indian while serviced by private butlers who can't afford to fly home to see their wives but every three months. We're Americans! We want to flash skin and be pampered! Fine, fine, fine.

But I was more intrigued by the lack of humor in it. B pointed out one line (from behind closed eyes as he napped on my lap), "Why did you buy me a black one? Because it's the color of my soul?"

"How is that funny?" he asked. And I agree-- how is it funny?

These girls, these four women who prompted "Which Character Are You" games all across Facebook and even before there was Facebook, were once known for wit, sparkle, glamour, and, yes, over-the-top exuberance.

They had their flaws and so did the show; as my sister's friend pointed out, we cheered on a heroine who, in the end, was the only thing about the show that never evolved or changed. And while SATC 2 did find truth in new territories (Being a Mom is hard; admitting that it's hard is even harder), it also fell shamelessly into old ones.

A wise man once told me that if a movie entertains you for two hours, you've gotten your money's worth. I won't pretend I didn't enjoy two hours of fun fashion and glorious settings, but I did almost appreciate the growth in myself.

Some things aren't funny. Some things, perhaps, aren't funny to me. So long as we can agree to enjoy a good "falling off the camel" joke (for real), then I suppose it's worth an afternoon on the couch. Plus, it had Miley! I mean, honestly, way to date yourself, SATC 2, but bonus points in my book!

Let me put it this way. Hairspray, Kate & William's wedding, and Dead Poet's Society remain on my DVR; SATC 2 does not.

Finally!

2011-06-28T14:48:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had one of those moments when you think, "Wow. I'm a cook."?

For years, I remember going to the grocery store, dropping $60 (sorry, Mom), then getting home and realizing I needed to go pick up dinner. I had staples, things I was "suppose" to buy, but not a darn thing in the house to eat.

Well, finally, finally!, I feel like I'm getting a hang of "our" routine. I have the staples that apply to us (ok, and things like pumpkin pie spice, which never gets used). I love being able to make cornbread from what we have on hand, or bread for that matter. Salad dressings. Cobbler. Crisps. Cookies. Oatmeal cookies!

Granted, some of this new-found pride comes from the fact that B & I are moving (yes, again) in a few months and have a lot of here-and-there travel in between, so we're officially eating the pantry. We haven't gotten down to multi-night spaghetti yet (and, actually blue box mac 'n cheese is more likely in our multi-night future), but we have started trying to work our way through condiments, frozen meats, and pantry staples.

At the very least, I'd love to have all my flour, sugar, etc fit into the cannisters before we move. Last time, all our spices went into a tub, which went into a POD, which spent a sleepy summer in a climate-controlled storage facility, though not before trucking across town or, on the back end, several states, in 90-degree heat (sorry, spices). This time we'll be more direct, but hopefully less bountiful.

My Mom always advised that I learn to cook things while I had time, which I assume means before I have someone around my ankles asking about paint, cookies, or why there's finger paint on the cookies. So far, we've amassed a decent collection, but I'm more excited that I'm (slowly) mastering ingredients themselves. I know how to use curry (kind of-- trial, by fire, and error on that one), and how to make taco seasoning (a tried-and-true staple in our home). I can make our version of guac, pasta sauce, alfredo sauce, and, well, I'm sure other things.

Finally! After years of loving cooking, I feel like I'm generally understanding it. I am the master of my spice rack, at least for today.

I think I smell something burning....

As a note, this post was inspired by my first attempt at pinto beans. Yes, I bought dry beans and I realize this is no huge success, but I can't wait for B to try them. They're amazing. Granted, they simmer for two hours (winter food, anyone?), but I'm not sure we'll go back to canned. Feel free to throw that back at me later when we run into each other in the El Paso section of the grocery store.

A Southern Girl At Heart

2011-06-28T12:41:00.001-07:00

In the past few weeks, I've been thinking a lot about Dad. It's been two years since he died and his birthday would be this coming Saturday. B and I are planning on finding fried chicken at some point over the holiday in his honor!

I've always associated Dad with food, a notion that start when my brother bemoaned the memory of Dad at Sunday dinner. You'd pass your plate down to him to cut up your chicken (we were young, mind you), and back it would come in tiny pieces. Tiny skinless pieces. B's family has a table toll; if you request wine, mashed potatoes, or sauce to be guided your way at the table, you can watch it decrease, be it by swill, scoop, or spoonful, as it moves your way. "Toll!" is the only apology needed.

Maybe it's my love of food or my Odyssean-style hunt for the perfect recipe, but I knew that I was a true Southern girl when I asked for a cookie recipe shortly after a funeral, Dad's funeral. Stay with me. Someone delivered a box of cookies to our house, as is custom during Southern mourning periods.

The bite-size delicacies arrived in a mixed greens plastic salad tub from Sam's, label removed, of course. From first bite, I knew these were the cookies I'd been looking for all my life. At the time, of course, I was simply eating and crying, another Southern specialty, but later, as the weeks rolled by, I remembered, through all the meals, tears, and evens of those crazy days, the chocolate chip cookies that had been so thoughtfully delivered to the house.

Did I mention that the cookie cupid, the deliverer of the divine, was the wife of the OB who delivered me? Faulkner is doing a happy dance somewhere in that eternal South beyond the clouds.

It took me several months and, quite honestly, I had other things to think about, but eventually I wrote a note to the wife of the man who brought me into this world about the cookies she delivered when God took my Father out of it.

Dear Mary,

I wanted to thank you so much for your kindness during the days after my Father's passing. I so appreciate knowing that Mom is in a town full of kind-hearted people who stop by and keep us in their prayers.

I also wanted to tell you how much I appreciated your sweet delivery in the days following Dad's death. Our family shared many a warm memory of Dad over your cookies, something I know he would've approved of.

Even today, when I think of those days after the funeral, my favorite memories are of my siblings and Mom sharing their memories, and your cookies remind me of that. If you don't mind, could you send me the recipe?

Sincerely,
A

And that, friends, is how I parlayed a funeral delivery into a quasi-funeral delivery thank you note into a cookie recipe request.

It took her a few months to write me back, but when she did, she gave me the blessed cookie recipe, which I share now, partly because I'm afraid the stained paper won't last much longer, partly because I think everyone should try it, and partly because I'm afraid B will leave me if I stop making them.

She called it the Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookie recipe and it's close, but just different enough to make all the difference in the world.

1 cup shortening (oh hush, you'll never be the same!)
3/4 sugar
3/4 cup light brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla
2 large eggs

Mix ingredients together in a standing mixer (for speed! When we need cookies, we NEED cookies!). In a separate bowl, combine 2 1/4 cups flour, 1 tsp baking soda, and 1 tsp salt.

Add to sugar mixture and blend well.

Add 1 cup chocolate chips.

Bake at 375 for 9.5-10.5 (yes, she included the halves) minutes. She claims it makes 36-38, but that's if you scoop them teaspoon size (which makes excellent mint ice cream cookie sandwiches, by the way).

She left me with one final instruction, "Do NOT over bake!" Her emphasis on the "NOT", you'll notice.

While I'm sure this wonderful lady questioned my questionable letter requesting a cookie recipe she delivered to what was basically my Father's wake, she seemed to understand the long-lingering truth: In the South, at least, emotions are intrinsically bound with food. We celebrate with Sunday suppers, slice cake for anniversaries and birthdays, and set our snacks for clubs, groups, meetings, and more. Nothing binds church women together faster than the call for casseroles, which leaves me feeling less guilty; if we serve others through food, then perhaps this sweet woman, the wife to the very first doctor in my life, got a kick out of serving me.

What a Week

2011-05-23T08:46:00.001-07:00

B & I spent the weekend seeing houses and trying to determine if we'll keep the house we're contracted with or go to a lower budget level and buy a 3/2 instead. Basically, a seven year house verses a four year house.

He and his Dad crawled over every inch of that house, so we're not expecting to hear anything wild from the inspector (coming today!), but we've seen more houses just in case we end up needing a back up.

A house. We're not old enough for this! I keep telling B that time is going by too quickly already. I need to hit a pause button, but I think I'll wait until we're on a beach somewhere to do it. If you're going to strand yourself away from reality, you have to make sure you're not doing it in the middle of Wal-Mart.

Pray for our inspection. If this is our house, then pray it goes well. If it's not, then pray that it goes obviously miserably so that we can make a wise choice!

Quote of the Day

2011-05-23T08:44:00.000-07:00

Mom: "Well, I think we can call today a succesful day on the house hunting front. We didn't see any cars up on blocks, any barbed wire, or a single strip joint within walking distance of your new place."

Me: "So not like the Florida house hunting trip at all then."

Mom: "Exactly!"

See, the trick is to set their expectations veeerrrry low.

Quote of the Day

2011-05-23T08:42:00.001-07:00

B: "I think the house we picked reminds me of you."

Me: "It needs some work?"

B: "No!"

Me: "It's wired a little crazy? Plumbing has issues? Needs work in the basement? Is getting a little old?"

B: "Seriously?"

Me: "Well?"

B: "No, just that I had to figure out what its eccentricities were so that I could appreciate them."

Me: "I just wish we'd found it later."

B: "See? And I wish I'd met you senior year!"

Quote of the Day

2011-05-23T08:41:00.000-07:00

B: "There's someone outside walking the dog."

Me: "Ok...?"

B: "I'm just saying, if it's true and there was a rapture, we didn't go and she's one of those dog watcher people."

Me: "I think I hear Grandma."

B: "Nevermind then, we're safe."

End of the World

2011-05-20T13:47:00.000-07:00

There's a rumor going around, you may have heard, that the world is ending tomorrow. And while mostly I appreicate random things like that that crop up every so often, as they do make me think about what I have and what's important in life, today I feel like I'd simply show up before God looking mighty sleepy!

Today, so far, has been nutty. B & I, along with his Mom, our agent, and at least two lenders, have been working feverishly since 8am to get information gathered, organized, and sent. And I mean 8am yesterday. :)

As B's Mom says, this is the crazy part, and then things will settle down. If we do make it to close (in late July, mind you), B and I may have to have someone move our hands for us!

Right now I'm thankful for...
1) My job. I was only suppose to be here for two hours today, but having internet access has been invaluable, and it's pretty quiet around here.
2) For B, who's been driving since noon and still has hours to go to get here.
3) For my grandma, who will love that I'll call her in a few minutes and tell her we're spending the night with her.
4) For my seemingly tireless Mom, who admitted that she got home yesterday and took a nap.

Right now I could do without...
1) Such stringent mortgage hoops
2) "Business Hours"
3) Deadlines

Peace

2011-05-20T05:53:00.000-07:00

I slept better last night than I've slept all week.

Two Years

2011-05-19T20:56:00.000-07:00

It's been two years today since Dad died. I've felt it particularly strongly today because I'm in Birmingham (as opposed to Napa, like last year) and with Mom. I'm driving the same streets that remind me of phone calls from that day, and long drives.

This year has been a year of decisions, wonderful ones. I haven't written here for fear of saying things we were ready to say yet, like that we're moving back to Birmingham, and that B has accepted an amazing offer with a wonderful firm. Those two decision alone were gut-wrenching, exciting, wonderful, terrible, scary, and exhilarating all at once. Add in the fact that I accepted a job at my old company and we purchased a car and we're pretty much there.

Pretty much.

This week, I'd planned to come to Birmingham to house hunt. Then my old company called and I combined the trip with an in-office visit to touch base and pick up a laptop so I can work remotely.

B and I had been looking, in two cities, for the perfect home for months. Long before we knew our home city, we had already picked out neighborhoods, schools, and weekly watering holes that we'd love to adopt. So when it came time to visit, we pulled our top 24 and I (along with both our Moms) hit the trail, seeing house after house.

At the end of day 1, we saw a cute one, one B and I had seen online and liked, but figured it was our "reach" house: beautiful, spacious, but a little more money than we were interested in spending.

When we pulled up, I started into my monologue, telling the Moms the house specs and the price when our realtor cut me off, "there's been a price reduction." And there was-- a 10% one, which, for houses, is no small stuff.

Day two came and went. We saw more houses but nothing compared to The House we saw on Day 1, not at that price, and not on the list of things we wanted, which was, really, no small list. We weren't looking for marble and crystal, but we were looking for niche items, like work out spaces and a back deck.

So, with B's blessing, in light of the price drop, I put in an offer at 5:30pm. By 6:30 this morning, they'd countered back, reducing the price further. By 8, there were agents waiting to present other offers, so we were presented with the option: Accept now or wait and risk the seller withdrawing their counter.

By 8:30 I was in the office, unshowered and mostly frazzled, and we were under contract.

Did I mention that B hasn't seen the house?

This man has some serious faith! And he should-- he's going to love it!

I've thought about Dad a lot over the past few days, and it made me feel good to know that this was happening today. Mom and Dad were always adament about saving for exactly this (among other) reasons, so I know he'd be thrilled to know what B and I were doing. I felt this sense of peace about it that seems odd even now, but I know it's coming from somewhere outside of me, mostly because I've hardly slept this week and am pretty much spent.

I can't wait for B to get to town (tomorrow). I can't wait for him to see the house. I can't wait to show him the things I know he'll love about it, and discover things I didn't even notice that he loves.

I'm thankful today for so much-- that I loved my Dad enough to be sad and miss him still, that we may have found our "for now" dream home (we haven't closed, so I'm not calling it "ours" just yet!), that B is on his way soon (because I really miss him), that I have wonderful family that calls to check in, that we have wonderful friends (one of whom made his facebook status about Dad today and even called Mom to say he was thinking of her), and that I had top-notch support this week from all angles when things got plain exhausting.

So here, dear reader, is my pledge to you. Now that I can tell you most of my secrets (we're moving! here's where! here's why!), I'll write again. For so long I felt bound by our own indecision (and my general exhaustion), but now I'm feeling ... free. Don't worry, you don't have to read a lick of it, but it'll be here for me, to help me remember the day I really missed my Dad and bought a house without my husband seeing it. Something to tell our grandkids about for sure.

Hmmm...

2011-03-29T14:10:00.001-07:00

The photos from all the posts I wrote last night have vanished. Here's hoping they come back but, if they don't, just wanted to put it out there that I'm not crazy! They were there!

Phone Calls I HAVEN'T Made This Week

2011-03-29T14:04:00.000-07:00

B's gone, which leaves me on my own. So far, I have a whole list of phone messages I haven't left, starting with...

B, please come home. There's a bug in the washing machine. It's dead. Please come get it out. Now
~A

B, so... not dead after all. And location unknown. Please PLEASE come home.
~A

Drifting Along

2011-03-28T18:34:00.000-07:00

Can you see what that is in the water? (No, not the oil sheen). That's a single floating flip-flop. This is my attempt to explain where I've been for the past two months.

The past two months have been crazy. I was feeling underworked (ie, fairly useless), and was actively looking for more work. Then life at the bakery kicked up so that I'm working about 35 hours a week there (four days a week), and now working full-time one day a week for my old company.

This has lead to much change, namely the fact that I can no longer get much of anything done before B gets home at 6ish. Hence, my dining room table is covered with tax documents (I'm channeling my father, so says my mother), the fridge is stocked with the basics, unimportant mail is stacked up, and the house is generally... ok.

I would LOVE to use this week to actually do some things, like really clean the bathrooms (how do you get hard water off sliding glass doors without getting in the shower and totally soaked in the process? Seriously, anyone?), put away all the laundry (after I do it, of course), and generally get us back to zero (which would necessitate me actually moving the pile of slippers from the shoe graveyard under the coffee table back into our bedroom).

I'd also like to go to the gym, finish my freelance work, and get a haircut. Anyone have an assistant they can loan me?

I'm thinking, for tonight at least, that the gym will be foregone, the taxes will say where they are, and I'll simply clean one thing, like an episode of Selling New York off our DVR.

Other reasons I haven't posted? Life decisions. They're coming, baby. B and I are hard at work deciding where we're moving in August, what job he's accepting, and whether or not to take our taxes to H&R Block for their free "second look". (Seriously, I like sneaking these questions in. Is it worth it, anyone?)

I have to keep reminding myself that these questions (the ones about taxes and hard water stains aside) are exciting. At this point in our lives, we are free, so blessedly free. We don't have to think about anything or anyone but ourselves and what we want. We don't even have a dog, and the plant we do have is rapidly meeting its maker.

So forgive me for not posting (though I've made up for it below, I hope!). I'm saving my creative juices for remembering how fun your 20s are suppose to be!

More B

2011-03-28T18:27:00.000-07:00

I miss you honey.

Please come home.

I won't make you pose with the shark again.

Love,

Fernandina!

2011-03-28T18:26:00.000-07:00

After our day trip with B's parents, we decided to go spend a little more time wandering the streets of Fernandina. Plus, who doesn't want to have a little fun in a new car?

We sped off for the afternoon to watch the sunset, shop the streets, and feast at 20 South Eats to celebrate... well, nothing really. A big decision made (we picked a car!), one of the first we've made together.

Besides, what can beat getting chocolate caramels at the fudge shop before dinner? That's my kind of appetizer!

We Bought a Car?

2011-03-28T18:23:00.000-07:00

That's right! After years (accoring to me), months (according to B), we have found and purchased the most perfect car. B did hours upon hours of research before deciding which car got to join our little family and I think he made the perfect choice, or at least the best looking one!

Our journey started a few years ago when B was in the market, but quickly accelerated in September when his trusty Jeep seemed to kick the bucket (AC, gas tank, belts, you name it!).

B comparison shopped, test drove, researched, and bargained through various cars before deciding on this one, the Kia Optima, or the Honda Odyssey, if you ask me or my Mom (we're not known for our car knowledge).

B's response? "That's a minivan!" Optima, Odyssey; Tomato, Tomatoh, honey.

The day we went to get the car was kind of insane. The dearlership told us it was en route. When we called a few days later to check on it, they said "It's still on the boat." Oh really. It finally showed up right after Mom left town, so we hopped in the car that night and headed to St. Augustine, where this little beauty was waiting for us.

B drove it home and we spent an hour outside in it just looking at the gadgets and features. When we came inside, he had a voicemail from his Dad saying, "B, it's 10:30, time to stop sitting in your car, come inside, and go to bed."

Does he know us or does he know us?

So now this sweet ride is sitting out behind the house waiting for B to come back from his trip. It has trip-tronic shifting, so maybe I could teach myself to drive stick while B's gone. Honey, what do you think? :)

Happy Birthday, Mom!

2011-03-28T18:17:00.000-07:00

We managed to snag Mom this year for her birthday. As luck would have it, she was on her way back from a church mission trip (at Biker Week!) and stopped by our house for a long weekend.

I'm sooo glad she did.

Not only did she give us an excuse to celebrate, but also an excuse to have a wonderful weekend together. We dined out at lots of fun restaurants, walked to the market, and generally just enjoyed down time together. After a week of talking with bikers, Mom even managed to sleep in until 9. Woohoo! Victory in my book!

While she was here, she also discovered that our pressure hose will reach our deck, and took it upon herself to clean the entire thing. B came home and was like, "Yes! Did you do this?" I fessed up.

Mom, thank you for sharing your birthday with us! Next year I'll remember that it's hard to blow out candles on a coconut cake without the flakes flying everywhere!

Baby Shower!

2011-03-28T18:14:00.000-07:00

At the end of February, I headed off again, this time to Birmingham for a dear friend's baby shower. She's due in May and still wearing her low-rise, prepregnancy jeans. Yes, you can hate her if you like!

B decided to come with me, both out of support (it's a long drive!) and the hope that he'd get some golf in.

We left on Friday after work and headed to Atlanta, where we spent the night, leaving early the next morning for Birmingham. B dropped me off and prepared to hit the links. While he was full-up with the boys, the girls and I had an amazing 7 seven hours together, putting the shower together, celebrating, meeting babies, and generally just catching up.

I miss my high school friends. No matter how many things change, who gets married, who has kids, or how many times we move, they're always a joy to see.

The shower was wonderful and fun, and I hated for it to end, but I met up with B and we raced to my brother's house to shower and get ready for dinner with B's former coworkers.

Sunday morning, we squeezed in a breakfast with my grandma and had a blast over bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches before heading back to Atlanta. We got in just in time to visit some open houses, then crash. We headed back to Jacksonville on Monday morning, totally exhausted and oh-so happy.

Turkey Day!

2011-03-28T18:09:00.000-07:00

Back when turkey was a bargain ("It's $.38 per pound!" B said over the phone when he called me), we decided to buy one. For about $8. You do the math.

The plan was to cook it at some point over the winter (thus, heating the house up and making it smell amazing), then freeze slices and pieces for sandwiches, stews, and other favorite recipes throughout the rest of winter.

Unfortunately, no one told me that winter begins and ends in January here in Florida. By the time I moved the turkey from the fridge to the freezer (or, about a week before I cooked it), it was already in the low 70s. The day I cooked the turkey, we opened all the windows, then closed them and turned on the AC.

I charged B with the task of cutting the turkey, because when else could you practice and basically hack at it until you figured it out?

While the end result did happen (I'm betting we ate at least 20 meals off that crazy bird), by the time the freezer was empty, I think we were both thankful that November is still several months away.

The Zoo!

2011-03-28T18:05:00.000-07:00

Part of our Valentine's Day present? Two-for-one at the zoo. You tell me, have you ever seen a zoo with a dock onto the river? Florida rocks.

B's favorite? The monkeys.

Mine? Elephants!

North Carolina Visit

2011-03-28T18:03:00.000-07:00

After B's parents left and B headed out of town for work for the week (on Valentine's Day!), I packed up and headed to North Carolina for a week of birthday celebrations, Chick-fil-A, and catch-ups with my sister and her family.

I LOVE going to see this family, including latest addition Mr. T there on the left. Someone is always up for a story, art project, or good Disney movie. I was lucky enough to be there when they watched Nana's Valentine's Day present, a DVD of Beauty and the Beast.

Why is this a big deal, you ask? Mom saved all of our movies, the old VHS tapes, and they've been making the rounds. Shockingly, after 20 years of use and hundreds of viewings recently, they've started to wear, namely, they're no longer in color.

Watching the girls see B&TB and gasp when Belle's beautiful golden yellow dress swirls around her on the dance floor? Priceless.

Amelia Island!

2011-03-28T17:55:00.000-07:00

What do you do when your husband goes out of town, you don't want to do the laundry, and you're avoiding freelance work? You stay in your pajamas all day, eat spaghetti for dinner, and catch up on blog posts! Lucky you!

In February, B's parents came down to visit one of their old haunts, Amelia Island. They stayed with us for a night, then we headed off for a night at The Plantation, which was eerily similar to Hilton Head (in a wonderful way!).

B's parents used to bring the boys down here a lot and I can totally see why. Granted, it was still cool the weekend they came (a fact I can hardly believe now that's it's 85 here in March!), but we did all the old favorites, including a day trip to Fort Clinch.

B's Mom can still remember taking all three boys there to run off energy. "All I'd hear was, 'Mom! I killed him and he's not dead!', as they ran around with their toy guns."

I'm praying for girls.

We had such a wonderful time with them and have already begged them to come back and try new restaurants we've discovered. We promise, it's warm now! It's safe to come back!

The Plan

2011-03-28T17:48:00.000-07:00

B is gone for a full week. My plan? List all the things I plan to do while he's gone in an effort to actually make myself do them:

1) Fold clothes in dryer.
2) Fold sheets still on guest bed from Mom's visit.... two weeks ago
3) Pack away tax prep items
4) Do remainder of laundry
5) Clean pollen off every surface in house
6) Organize new financial docs

So far, the things I've done include read an entire Jodi Picoult book in six hours (oops), make a nice dent in my comfy couch cushion, and read the Prince William wants a groom's cake. Life is good.

How to Make a Minnie Mouse Cake

2011-02-21T14:58:00.000-08:00

"How To" to come, for now, here's a peek at the Minnie Cake my sister and I made for my niece/her kiddo's three-year-old party. Happy birthday, Sienna!

I Asked For It

2011-02-01T17:23:00.000-08:00

Just when B saved us about $250 over six months on our cable and internet (cash back, etc), his phone inexplicably died. We took it to Verizon, who told us it had an "internal fracture," which is about like your doctor telling you that your blood pressure is high. You believe him, but mostly because you have to.

Long story short? No emails to B's phone this week. For now, it is only a phone. Ok, that's not true. For now, it's useless (no screen = no ability to select "pick up," etc), but the phone we put on the line until we get the replacement will be only, merely a phone. Back to the '00s for us!

Two Things I Love

2011-01-31T17:32:00.000-08:00

Florida, for allowing me to have dinner outside with B both last night and tonight on our porch. We love this balmy winter weather! I know next year won't be this warm, regardless of where we are!

B, for spending the last hour on the phone with Comcast (who is raising our rates) and Uverse (who is offering an incredible deal).

Life is good!

God is Laughing

2011-01-27T14:46:00.001-08:00

Yes, at me.

Remember those posts about my needing to work more?

I found out today that my boss is (likely) partnering, expanding, remodeling, and franchising, all this spring. Looks like I'll get much more (welcome) experience in the industry than I anticipated!

Remember That Crazy Interview?

2011-01-26T06:02:00.001-08:00

Remember a week ago (or yesterday, in blogging world) when I applied for a job because I felt I wasn't doing enough (stupid library being closed on MLK Day)? Well they called this morning at 7:30.

They want me to start today.

Oh boy.

Gym Fail: Why I'm Now a Follower of Matthew McConaughey

2011-01-25T14:38:00.000-08:00

In high school, I figured that, if your clothes fit, you were in shape.

Friends, I'm here to tell you that I was wrong.

After jogging a few times (ok, once. For two minutes) with B, I decided that I needed to spend a little time on me, building muscle and bettering my posture, so I decided to try a free week at B's gym and take advantage of the free "personal training" session, which I figured would be something like an advanced gym tour in which the buff dude or chick in charge would show me around, tell me about the weight settings, and point out a few things that would strengthen my key goal areas: shoulders, pack, and core.

Friends, again, I was wrong.

I should've known I was in trouble when my trainer put me on an elliptical for five minutes at 100 (yes 100) level resistance and told me to go as hard as I could while he asked me questions about myself and my goals. Around minute three, I was wondering why he thought I'd be able to converse comfortably at this rate, but attempted none the less, switching to simple answers.

After the "warm up" (ha!), he had me do a minute of lunges, a minute of sit ups, and a cardio-style weight sequence. Then back on the elliptical.

After that round, I did two more exercises (of which I have no memory), then promptly almost passed out. I kid you not. Sit down, black spots, "I can't hear you" kind of pass out.

As I sat there, embarrassed and more than a little disheartened, the trainer says, "This is my bad, you looked like you were in shape."

Oh boy. Since then, I've been doing some things around the house and following Matthew McConaughey's fitness advice, mostly because it's the only one that ever stuck with me: Break a sweat everyday. For a Cali guy, it's pretty deep if you think about it. Life shouldn't be about clocking hours at the gym, but it gets harder as you grow older. Suddenly organized sports are harder to find and there's no gym period during the work day. Until I can find myself a paddle board (and a place to store it), I'm going to try to do something each day to make myself stronger and better.

Of course, that's somewhat harder now that I'm afraid to go back to my gym. My trainer wants to "finish my session" which I fear may just finish me. I don't want to quit the gym just yet, but, for now, I'm planning to hit up the non-staffed hours. And follow Matthew's twitter feed...

2010 In Review

2011-01-25T14:19:00.001-08:00

Better late than never!

January
Start the year off right with a family vacation to the BVIs on a fabulous sailboat with B's family. Love. Wish I could go back right now. Rung in B's 27th birthday with a pirate themed bar which was, ironically, authentic. Ok, there may have been an eye patch, so it was only mostly authentic. B started his last semester of law school and we geared up for the coming Bar application. I had my last day at work for my job and instantly started babysitting/nannying for about 10-20 hours per week.

February
Our year of travel continued! Off to Mexico with my family for a week of sun and sand with the kiddos. Again, I'm ready to go back. Today.

March
My high school girlfriends make the trip to the NC shore for two days of catching up and enjoying some sun. I wish I could make this an annual thing (sensing a travel trend here?), but I'll take my joy where I can find it. We enjoyed B's final spring break, then headed to Texas for a college friend's wedding.

April
Off to UVA for B's third and final softball tournament. We had a blast playing softball, hanging with his friends, enjoying wings at Wild Wings, and beer at the local Irish pub. More babysitting, more time with the kiddos, and less snow. Yea!

May
I headed to Atlanta for a shower, then B and I celebrated our first anniversary in Williamsburg, where I had the best pancakes ever, plus a few delicious meals courtesy of our generous and loving parents! The next weekend B graduated, we moved out, and headed to California for B's little brother's college graduation. Ok, ok, and a few days in wine country. Win! We finished the month at our five year college reunion, which B summed up perfectly by saying, "That was really fun... every five years." We moved to Atlanta to prepare for B's Bar in July.

June
Bar Prep starts! I headed to Durham for a few days with the kiddos, but mostly we enjoyed Atlanta and the non-crunch time for the Bar.

July
Bar crunch time! After a few days at the under-construction lake house over the 4th of July, B locked it down and we moved to house sit at a different home in the neighborhood. I went back to Durham to meet the newest monkey in the crew, then B and I moved into the Embassy Suites for two nights during the Bar, which he passed. Woohoo!

August
Bar Trip! B and I moved to Jacksonville, then took a Bar Trip to Miami and the Keys. Life is good! Then work starts. Life is still good, if a little hot. Florida needs to cool off! We did escape the heat for a little while, heading to Columbia, SC for a wedding weekend.

September
Escaped again! This time to Maine, where we feasted on lobster and celebrated more wedding vows. I stared work at the bakery and B continued to settle in at the office. Also, my birthday. Awesome!

October
B passed the Bar! We headed to Atlanta for another wedding (hello, Ritz!), and we didn't get a single trick or treater.

November
Our NC family arrives en route to Disney World and we enjoy several days hanging with them and really meeting the little one, only four months! This might be the first month of the year that we didn't go out of town, at least not until Thanksgiving, which we celebrated in Atlanta and Blue Ridge.

December
The bakery is crazy. Christmas in Atlanta is filling, both in tummy and in heart. B's Granny and Grandpa came to visit us and pronounced our home lovely. We headed to Orlando to celebrate New Year's with Mom and look forward to Disney.

Y'all, 2010 was good. Really good. It was crazy. We moved, lived out of suitcases, and traveled to at least a dozen locations. New jobs, new cities, new friends, but still the same old us. I love our crazy, disorganized, exciting, and at times stressful life. Ready for another year!

20 Months!

2011-01-25T14:13:00.000-08:00

I'm so tempted to say, "What the heck did we do that month?", but I remember! We can do this!

December 9 to January 9 brought such fun adventures. We celebrated Christmas in Atlanta, New Year's in Orlando, and B's birthday in Jacksonville.

B and I had fun caroling, buying and decorating our Christmas tree, and thinking about where we would be a year from now. By the way, does anyone know? If so, fill us in.

We spent our first year on our own this year. True, we went home for holidays, but this is the first year that we don't have any family in town and, to be honest, it's been great. We'd love to have kiddos nearby or family on call, but since we don't, we've spent a lot of time enjoying each other and our temporary city.

The picture above was taken a few days shy of the 20 month mark on the ferry en route to the Magic Kingdom. Happiness.

The truth is, everyone always told me that true love should grow richer and deeper with age. Maybe I'm still a newbie, but I find it totally intoxicating. Every year with B, I look back and think, "Wow, that one was really great," then I simply prepare for it to get even better, and I'm never disappointed.

B, this month I'm thankful for your spirit and your calm, especially when my crazies kick in. I know we're making big decisions, but I'm bless to know that, as my sister says, my biggest (and certainly most handsome) decision has already been locked down. I love you!

B's Take On Disney World

2011-01-25T13:56:00.000-08:00

B's been to Disney, but he hasn't done Disney as often, or as recently, as we have, so it was a real blast to get his impressions...

1) The lines are waaaay shorter than he remembered. Granted, he's older (so he understands) and I think the lines were shorter.

2) It's really different when you're older; I noticed the pint-sized princesses running around way more than I ever did.

3) It used to take FOREVER to walk to Thunder Mountain (B's favorite), but it's really just a short jaunt past Adventureland.

4) Epcot is waaaay adult-oriented. We were amazed at how many vendors in the World Showcase were offering beer, wine, and cocktails as we strolled through the countries!

We spent one day seeing the Magic Kingdom (Haunted Mansion, Space Mountain, Thunder Mountain, Country Bear Jamboree, Jungle Cruise, Pirates of the Caribbean, etc) and were amazed that we'd done it all, including lunch and the parade, by around 4pm.

So we grabbed our park hoppers and headed toward Epcot, where we had dinner reservations later that night. We hit four great rides before dinner, where we surprised B with tequila in "Mexico" over dinner before the fireworks.

Let's just say that we slept well that night!

The next morning, we packed the car and headed toward MGM, now Hollywood Studios, where B noted that tons of Europeans were hanging around, definitely different than the other parks!

We loved Hollywood Studios, but had finished everything by the time our shuttle arrived and carted us back to the hotel where we got lunch and headed out for home.

I don't know if we'll make it back to Disney again before we leave Florida. But, if not, I'll always have New Year's 2011. What a fun time.

And, by the way, B and I decided that if we do go back, he's going to pull a YouTube and videotape him telling me. Our bet is that I'll be more excited than the kids! Only time will tell.

I Heart Mickey

2011-01-25T13:50:00.000-08:00

B knows several things about me.

1) I like anything of his. This includes sweatshirts, slippers, soft tshirts, and warm gloves.

2) I'll try anything, but you may have to make me. This includes new vegetables, like mushrooms.

3) I love Disney World.

You may like Disney World. You may even enjoy Disney World. But me, I love Disney World. I watch the commercials and cry. I YouTube the videos about parents telling kids that they're going and I cry. I take the ferry to the Magic Kingdom and, yes, I get teary.

I'm not sure why. We used to go a lot when I was little, once a year when the orthopedic academy met in Orlando. I think it's that I have nothing but wonderful memories of being there. The rides, the friends, the parades, everything.

I'm not one of those people with Mouse gear around the house. If you looked through our place, you'd find only one Disney thing: The Eeyore B got me years ago, because Eeyore has always been my favorite.

But I've been so excited to go and go we did, this year with Mom during our Orlando trip. Amazingly, the place empties out after New Year's, so we waltzed right up to our favorite rides and enjoyed smaller crowds than I remember.

My favorite part? Seeing B's reaction...

I Love Disney

2011-01-25T13:46:00.000-08:00

Did you know? I do.

And also, Florida. Shorts on Jan 2? Don't mind if I do!

New Year's Football!

2011-01-25T13:43:00.000-08:00

Mom had lots of surprises up her sleeve this year, including seats to the Alabama bowl game on New Year's Day, which just happened to be in Orlando. How could we not go? Mom deemed the day "birthday worthy" and we celebrated B's big day a week early with beer, cheese steaks, and cokes in the stadium.

The game was fantastic! We won by dozens, but we had a blast cheering and generally enjoying the Florida sunshine. Roll Tide!

New Year's Eve

2011-01-25T13:39:00.001-08:00

B and I got a huge treat this year. Mom invited us down for my cousin's soccer tournament to Orlando for a few days of a different Florida experience, starting with New Year's Eve (and ending with Disney-- to come!).

We gladly signed on. We started the night with a fun dinner out, then strolled around our fabulous hotel and toasted the New Year's in our room.

It was a different New Year's than we've had, but it was quiet and wonderful. We loved being able to celebrate with Mom, and I'll take a destination holiday any time of the year!

Christmas = Good!

2011-01-25T13:36:00.000-08:00

Visitors!

2011-01-25T13:32:00.000-08:00

I knew Mom (the lovely lady pictured here) was coming through Atlanta after the holidays. B's Mom was fabulous and invited my aunt, uncle, and cousin over for a "low key" dinner. Little did I know they were bringing a surprise visitor: MY Grandma!

I was so excited and shocked that I didn't get any pictures with her on my camera, but it was such a treat to see Grandma. She's ... 93? And amazing. Rolled in wearing her fur coat and a big smile. To B's Mom, a big thank you for making my Christmas a little longer!

I did love hearing the story after the surprise. Apparently, Grandma had been calling Mike and Kim (starting early in the am) to discuss what she was bringing for the surprise, including half a rum cake. Kim told me she woke up one morning to hear B's Dad already on the phone with Grandma. Bless her!

If Christmas really is all about family, then I got my full dose this year. Blessed, indeed!

Christmas 2010

2011-01-25T13:27:00.000-08:00

This is what Christmas at B's family's house looks like: Delicious fun.

Christmas this year was wonderful. It was a little bit of a bummer that I had to work on Christmas Eve morning, but that's what I get for loving bakery work! We left after I finished and caroled our way to Atlanta, where we were greeted with the traditional family Christmas Eve dinner: Shrimp Casserole, among other tasty treats!

On Christmas morning, we started with plain croissants and mimosas, then opened stockings. Then we moved onto chocolate croissants, and more mimosas. Then family presents. One thing I love about B's family is that they're where my family was a few years ago (ok, almost seven). Since there are no Santa-crazed kiddos, we simply enjoy the morning, taking it slow and even opening presents one at a time.

By the time we finished, it was time to cook! The spread in the picture above was the start of the Christmas feast. B's neighbor/almost aunt always joins them for Christmas, often with her sister and always with her son. Besides being great cooks, they're a blast to have around the dinner table!

My joy didn't end on Christmas; The next day, I got a big surprise...

I Love This Man

2011-01-25T13:22:00.000-08:00

Earlier this month, B turned ... older. Actually, he's 28! Ignore that, in this picture, he's in Epcot; we'll get to that later.

For now, let's focus on the best of the best-- B had a birthday! We celebrated by having an all B day. We headed to Chick Fil A that morning for free spicy chicken biscuits (soooo good), then enjoyed dinner at B's favorite restaurant: Wild Wings. We invited his buddies and filled ourselves with tiny portions of chicken dipped in yummy sauces. That, a bucket of beer, and some chile con queso... what else could you want? Birthday Cake!

Some of you may remember that B has a favorite birthday cake that his grandma used to make for him all the time. His Mom, and now me, took up the torch and make "birthday cake" each year: a pistachio cake with bittersweet chocolate icing. Yes, it's green, and yummy!

The birthday was so great, and so filling, that we still have the Champagne in our fridge. I'm sure it'll be put to good use. In the meantime, I so enjoyed loving on B and celebrating him. I love that he enjoyed the key things in life, like spicy food and cold beer. What a man.

B, I'm thrilled to celebrate another birthday with you. Just like you promised, each year gets more and more fun as we go forward. Here's to many more!

Lately

2011-01-25T13:08:00.000-08:00

I feel like God has been telling me a lot of things lately. Unfortunately, "go forth and blog" is not one of them!

Normally I'm not one of those people that feels like God tells them things. I go to church because I believe and I like the way I experience the service; I don't expect to get "handwriting on the wall" style sermons each time I slide into the pew.

Lately, however, it's been different. B and I are making a lot of decisions these days, some big (Where will we live? What job should B take?) and some less big, but still really weighty (What car should be purchase?). I decided over Christmas, when I realized I was sleeping less again, to be intentional about praying about specific things. Ironically, I feel like God gave me one answer directly, but it was the one we don't really need just yet. Who says God doesn't have a sense of humor?

A week ago, on MLK day, I had a day off from volunteering and started to feel and overwhelming sense of "what the heck am I doing", so I applied for a job and started looking for others. Of course, by the time I got a call about the job later than afternoon, I'd already felt peace returning. Moments after I'd submitted my application, my current boss had emailed me, telling me I'd be getting more hours at the bakery. Peace. Of course, I still had to go to the job interview that afternoon (and yes, B was flabbergasted when he got home and asked the usually routine question, "How was your day?").

So now I'm trying to remember that God does give answers and when I feel that he doesn't, or isn't working in my timeline, then the answer just isn't ready yet. So when you pray, if you pray, pray for us. For peace, calm, and clarity. And maybe for a little extra sleep. :)

Behind

2011-01-17T06:30:00.001-08:00

Of course, and for a number of reasons, namely: holidays, work, and a malfunctioning camera. But I'm working on it, and need to post about 100 things, including the latest monthly anniversary, B's birthday, Christmas with B's parents, New Year's in Orlando with Mom, and general Florida wonderfulness. I promise not be overwhelmed, but simply to be better!

Gone Baby, Gone

2010-12-13T12:59:00.000-08:00

This week our landlord found sweet Olivia a new home. Which is good. It's wonderfully, actually, as we're hitting record lows this week (2o in the morning is "optimistic"; pray for the Florida crops!).

But for me, for us, it's a little sad. Our first pet! My welcoming party at the end of each day. Olivia is the reason that all B's workout clothes have hair around the ankles. She's been our soundtrack in the evenings, meowing for us to fill her food bowl, even though we only had the milk.

B's been tickled by how bummed I've been that Olivia has gone to, as I've put it (to B's chagrin), a "better place." "But she really IS in a better place!", he says. And he's right.

But for a few weeks, we had a friendly face that reminded us to love everyone and share what we had, even when that meant that B and the kitty had to share our milk until the next Sam's run.

I miss her, but I'm glad she's gone. B's out of town and I'd warned him that if he left while she was still here, she'd be sleeping in the guest room.

So farewell, Olivia! Thanks for sharing your love, snuggles, and kisses with us for a few weeks.

And for goodness sakes, don't anyone take this as a *hint, hint* that I'm wanting a cat. We are proudly pet free for now. ...Unless you have a spare golden retriever hanging around. Then give me a call.

19 Months

2010-12-13T12:33:00.000-08:00

Just over 19 months ago, I married this man. I've never been happier.

B and I enjoyed a wild Nov 9 - Dec 9. We got to see the kiddos (post Disney) again for a night, which we loooved. We can't get enough of them!

After their visit, we got ready for Thanksgiving, which we spent with my family in Atlanta and his family in Blue Ridge, where it was cold, but that just meant more blankets, fires, and s'mores.

Work's gone well for both of us. I've been super busy with the holiday baking rush and B's been steady with new work with the judge. Thankfully, we've both been happy and generally healthy (hate to jinx anything!).

We've gotten into the holiday spirit, getting a Christmas tree, celebrated at a block party, and read and reread Christmas cards (thank you!).

Nineteen months is technically a long time, but it feels like it's gone by in a flash. I can't believe we'll be celebrating another Christmas, then a New Year, then (yea!) a birthday, for B.

The next time I'm writing this monthly update, it'll be a new year (which is also the year of both of our 10 year high school reunions) with new adventures, another move, and picking a city. For now, I'll just stick with looking at this picture from our friends' wedding over Labor Day this year. Good memories!

Meet Olivia

2010-12-06T14:17:00.000-08:00

For almost a month now, B and I have been bamboozled into taking care of this super cute Siamese kitty (a few months old). It showed up on our porch and started meowing directly into the crack of our door. This cat is the most dog-like cat we've ever experienced.

Case in point? Olivia (as we've named her) trots alongside B when he goes to the gym. She comes running when you open the back door. And, when we came home from Thanksgiving in Atlanta, she followed us right in the house. "Hi guys! Miss me?"

I give her milk. Our upstairs neighbor gives her dry food. And we all give her lots of back scratches.

We first named the cat Oliver, because it was an orphan (who abandons a true Siamese kitty?), but then our neighbor did some recon and discovered "he" was a "she," so Olivia she's been ever since.

Technically she's our first pet, but B and I have no interest in keeping her. Well, we do, but we're not really ready to commit to anything for 16 years. We're just getting this whole marriage thing, so we're trying to keep it simple.

Anyone want a Siamese kitty? Beware of Christmas gifts from me with air holes in the sides...

The Almost Tree

2010-12-06T14:13:00.000-08:00

B KNOWS I love Christmas, especially Christmas trees. Ergo, I'm burning a Woodwicks Christmas Tree candle as I type this.

So he was game when I drug him to Sam's to look at Christmas trees, for only $29!

Here's a picture of the tree we didn't get. While Sam's has amazing prices, they don't cut the bottom of the tree off, don't trim the branches, and basically make you look at them in this would-be wilderness in the front of the store. Moral of the story? Pay a little more, go to Ace or Home Depot (or your local tree farm), and have them tie it on your roof. That or buy your own chain saw, an option I did NOT present to B.

We did end up buying a different tree that day, which is sitting on our porch in a bucket of water waiting for B to come home from work. I tried telling him the tree was cold and needed to come inside, but he saw right through my lies.

B, I always love when you come home from work, but, tonight especially, I can't wait!

Florida Children...

2010-12-06T14:09:00.000-08:00

...meet snow.

Christmas in Avondale!

2010-12-06T14:08:00.000-08:00

Friday night, my boss invited us workers to come "hang out, drink wine, eat food, and turn people away for the bathroom." Translation? It's Christmas in Avondale, a three hour street party featuring food, fake snow, and the removal of the open container law for the night.

Imagine all our surprise when the bakery was paaaacked the entire night. No eating, no drinking (except for tiny wine chugs), and tons of sales; we ended up making several hundred more cupcakes (or icing them at least, good thing we'd planned ahead, "just in case."

B was a trooper. Aside from taking this picture of the chaos, he hung out with the other significant others in the back, sampling the food and generally taking it all in.

Christmas is officially here!

History Repeating Itself?

2010-11-22T17:14:00.000-08:00

For the past week, a few-months-old Siamese kitten has taken to loving on our back porch. We called it cat-dog, because it's crazy friendly, then Oliver (after the orphan), then (after discovering "it" was a "she"), Olivia.

B and I have gone round and round on this cutie. I convinced him (without working too hard, mind you) to give it some milk, then it tailed him everywhere, even bounding along beside him when he walked to the gym.

It should be said that we are not cat people. Never had them, never wanted them. But this cat has us both putting milk (and towels...) out on the back porch and going out for snuggles. We think he got lost or someone turned him loose (sad), because he definitely doesn't act like the strays we've seen around.

Our landlord is putting the kibosh on the back porch feedings and is planning to either find it a home or take it to the no-kill shelter B found. (Love him.) For now, here's a pic of B with the other ill-gotten cat in our shared history: the dorm cat our roommates shared custody of.

PS-- How adorable is 18 year old B? He's a baby!

Times are a' changin'

2010-11-22T17:12:00.000-08:00

I'm sure one of my brothers could pinpoint the exact game when this photo was taken, but all I can think when looking at it is that this was taken pre-kiddos and, I think, pre-husbands? It's at least college, because that's my roommate's belt I'm sporting. Hm, which may mean my sister was married after all...

Save Me!

2010-11-11T06:40:00.000-08:00

Uncle B, please don't make me get in the car tomorrow with all those women. They'll probably make me hold a doll. Again.

"Treat" is in the Mouth of the Beholder

2010-11-11T06:39:00.000-08:00

Note to self: When you tell your nieces they can have Cheetos and cookie dough for a treat, you may want to specify that they don't have to eat them together.

Clearly she's inherited my refined palate.

Porn for Women, a Picturebook

2010-11-11T06:38:00.000-08:00

My sister walked in on her 2 year old during quiet time and found her reading this. Seeing only the book cover ("Porn for Women"), she asked if she could see it.

Much to her happiness, the book was filled with pictures of (fully-dressed) men saying things like, "Look! The playoffs are on, we'll have no trouble parking at the crafts fair." and "I can't offer you any suggestions about your problem, but I'm happy to listen."

Everytime someone offered to read a story, this little lady brought her book along, too.

I like that she's reading it while munching on a spoonful of cookie dough.

"Are You Going Back to Sleep?"

2010-11-11T06:36:00.000-08:00

..and other crazy questions asked by Aunt A at 5am today.

My sister and mom are brilliant and crazy. They made the plan to leave as soon as the first kid woke up. Well, here's kid one, followed closely by kid two at 5am.

I (wrongly) assumed my sister had woken up the 2 year old but apparently no one informed the next generation about Daylight Savings Time. Makes it amazing that Disney's gates don't open until nine, huh? That's practically lunchtime!

So I found little man here and we packed the cooler with chocolate milks and Diet Cokes, then his sister (aforementioned early riser) decided she'd share her doll with him.

I feel like T is really saying:

Dear Dad & Uncle Brian,

Where are you? I'm awake, no one will turn on Sports Center, and I've been given this crazy doll to gum on while everyone else hustles around.

Also, I'm way cute.

Love,

I miss them already! When they left the first time, B said, "Ahh. Quiet." To which I replied, "Awh. Quiet."

Safe travels, guys!

Pint-Sized Wisdom

2010-11-11T05:59:00.000-08:00

Ella: Catherine's Daddy is very tall.
Me: Someday you'll be very tall.
Ella: Will I keep growing forever?
Me: No.
Ella (panicked): Why not?
Me: Because then you wouldn't fit in the car and we'd have to get a special bed made, but don't worry, your bones know when to stop growing.
Ella: How?
Me: There's a space in between your bones that says, "Grow! Grow", and when you get older, it closes up and tells your bones to stop growing.
Ella: Is that space where God lives?
Me: (silence)
Sister: Exactly right, Ella.

18 Months!

2010-11-10T12:32:00.001-08:00

Ha! I'm only one day behind this time. Go ME.

Yesterday, B & I celebrated our 18 month anniversary. That's right, it's been a year and a half since we got married. I, of course, ran out of the bedroom, found him sitting on the couch, pointed and yelled something romantic like, "Ha! Happy Anniversary!", thus continuing our goal to out-celebrate the other. The usual response is, "Dah! You got me!" Romantic, indeed.

This month has been nutty. B went to ATL for work, then we went back a week later for a wedding of a dear friend of B's (and my current boss). The travel gods repaid us this week with a visit from my sister, her family, and my mom. We had a blast hitting the science and history museum, children's museum, a deli with the best french fries ever, a park with "both kinds of swings", the farmers' market, and the cupcake store.

We've worked a lot, B at the office and me from home and at the bakery. We've made some big decisions, for us, about budgeting and financial planning (woohoo!) and spent time with friends in the area exploring new restaurants and wine tastings.

It's hard for me to believe that we've only been married 18 months. It feels life forever, and yet we've done so much. We've lived in four places, moved more times than that, enjoyed vacations to two different countries, and worked as hard as we could to love and celebrate each other.

I once read that successful marriages happened when the couple woke up each day and decided to say "yes" again and choose to be happy. Now that I'm actually married, I kind of buy it. I could easily be a crankypants and take out my frustrations, hunger, or sleepies on B (and believe me, sometimes I do. Sorry honey.), or I could choose to focus on us and the good everytime I see him. Which makes me more excited for him to come home and, I'm sure, more exciting for him to see me happy.

That doesn't mean there aren't bills to pay, laundry to fold, or dishes to put away, but it does mean that what I'm doing I'm choosing to do positively, instead of stomping my foot.

I don't really know what makes for a "happy" marriage, or if that's how you'd define a successful one. I remember reading that Yoko Ono never spent a night away from her husband. Then I thought, "Wow, what an amazing thing to be able to say." Then I got married and realized that spending every night together would mean that B didn't get to celebrate his friends at bachelor parties, that I didn't get to go visit my sister and the kiddos before baby T was born, and that, generally, it was a heck of a lot of stress to pile onto something just for the sake of saying you did it. As my sister-in-law says, "there are some things they don't give medals for." In her case, she was referring to natrual childbirth, but I think it applies here.

Today (I mean, um, yesterday), I am thankful for a caring and tolerant husband, one who celebrate my cranky days (and later tells me that they're pretty funny and mostly cute), who puts the dishes away when I know we both hate doing it, who thanks me for ironing his work shirts, who remembers that I like soft tacos with beef (unless the chicken is pulled) and saves me some of his at our favorite Mexican dive. I'm thankful for his nightly text messages telling me he's on the way home, and for his love when I call him (yes, call him. On his cell.) at 6am when I know he's midworkout in the living room, letting me sleep, to tell him I'm cold and that he should come back to bed.

I'm thankful that he doesn't mind when I'm selfish and say all the things I'm thankful for that benefit me. :)

I'm thankful for his humor, his grace, his love of our nieces and nephews, his passion for all things sports, his love of reading, his eagerness to show me new things on Netflix, his calm when I still can't work the Wii without two remotes, and, most of all, his tender heart that reaches out to hurting friends, strives to do well at work, and longs to lead our little family in the right direction.

He encouraged me to take a job I love, supports me when I'm exhausted, and just laughs when I force him to sleep for nine or ten hours on the weekend nights.

You're a perfect fit for me, hon, and that's great, because boy are you stuck with me. What a coup.

Two Dudes

2010-11-08T12:22:00.000-08:00

...watching the games.

Part 4!

2010-11-08T12:21:00.000-08:00

"I'm cute. And naked. So what?"

"I'm cute. And dangerous to Aunt A, though more so to Uncle B. So what?"

"Hm... maybe I'm just as dangerous to Uncle B...."

Part 3!

2010-11-08T12:19:00.000-08:00

If only we could get B a Santa hat in this one!

B & S draw the layout of our house over brunch at the fabulous Metro Diner. Here's to calling ahead for a table!

Balloon animals! Temps in the mid-50s couldn't keep us away from the local farmer's market, where we saw pets, watched a juggler, dined on chocolate croissants, and picked up two balloon flowers (pink and purple). E told me that, when T was old enough, she'd get him a blue flower. I'm sure he'll be thrilled.

Thanksgiving Turkey hands!

Family Comes to Visit, Part 2!

2010-11-08T12:16:00.000-08:00

Cardio boxing, brought to you by B. And giggles there, on the couch.

No body does story time like Nana does story time, unless it's Nana doing iPhone time and she's showing the girls the "Charlie Bit Me" video, which they found hilarious. Love it.

We visited the bakery on Day 2 in the pouring rain and I'm so glad we did. The girls picked out treats and, thankfully, we ate them back at the house instead of in the car. Can you imagine?

Uncle B does storytime, though perhaps not with the right book...

Family Comes to Visit!

2010-11-08T12:11:00.003-08:00

Our visit began with a Zoe's lunch, a trip to the park, quiet time, then dinner at Al's Pizza. After dinner, the girls surprised me by changing into their Princess costumes (and Tyler into his Prince costume), and becoming our first and only trick-or-treaters! Check out Belle, the Prince, and Aurora. So cute! Plus, Aurora told me she could wear her outfit in cold weather, because it had sleeves (check out those sheer beauties!)

This, dear friends, is the Prince. How stinkin cute is he in his Bumbo chair? I miss him already.

Now this one melts my heart. After the girls were put to bed, B and T had a little quality man-to-man time on the couch. This was during a rest from their workout (you'll see what I mean).

Tyler lifts!

Family Visit!

2010-11-08T11:49:00.000-08:00

I love when family comes to town. This past week, my Mom, my Sister, her husband, and their kiddos came to stay with us for part one of their Florida vacation. Our part consisted of cupcakes, Disney movies, museums, and parks. Part two? Disney World. I can't wait to hear their take on it!

Having them visit was such a neat thing. It was officially the first time a family get together has been at my house. Granted, it was wild-- we were moving sleeping kids and enjoying wild sleeping arrangements, but it was fantastic to feel like a grown up in the family. Thank you, family, for making the effort to come visit! With a four-year-old, a two-year-old, and a four-month-old, you know that I know that "effort" is no small matter.

Coming now? Pictures! Pardon my proud auntie state. I can't resist!

Day 2

2010-11-01T14:30:00.000-07:00

(Pssst. This is what watching a football game with three lawyers is like)

Day 2, we took the celebrating back to the streets for the Florida/Georgia game, rumored to be the World's Largest Outdoor Cocktail party. Oh boy, was it.

For one, all street drinking laws must be put on hold for the weekend; we saw more outdoor margarita and beer bars on the street than in Key West.

We started our day with a cookout, then a trip to the Landings downtown (again, walking, two miles) where we hung out for the game, watching the sun go down, the dancing get rowdy, and the drinks keep on pouring.

We had a blast! It was the perfect way to round out our weekend of celebration. A perfectly lazy Saturday loaded with burgers, beer, and football.

Congrats, B!

Much More Celebrating

2010-11-01T14:27:00.000-07:00

When B got home from work, we got down to business, popping corks, pouring Champagne, eating cupcakes, and checking congratulatory emails and texts. It was a great night for porch-sitting and sit we did, until it was time to head to dinner for (surprise!) more celebration.

Being the smart citizens that we are, we walked our buzzed tails two miles to dinner, then two miles home and, you know what, it was the best, most perfect thing ever. It's so rare that B lets me lavish attention on him for really tangible things, but this time I would not be stopped!

Celebrate!

2010-11-01T14:24:00.000-07:00

This is how WE celebrate.

Waiting for B

2010-10-29T14:15:00.000-07:00

Two Champagne flutes

One blinged-out Champagne bottle

Favorite birthday cake turned cupcakes

One "You Are Special Today" plate

Dinner reservations at a favorite (walkable, if necessary!) place

Lots of hugs and kisses

Big Pimpin'

2010-10-29T14:13:00.000-07:00

This is what happens when you get amazing Champagne as an engagement party present and ooh and aww over the box without.ever.opening.it.

That's right, kiddos. You are rewarded with amazing, wonderful, blinged-out Champagne with which to toast your husband.

This bottle is here to stay. I only wish I could figure out who gave us this Champagne to tell them how much it delighted me to open it!

This Guy

2010-10-29T13:56:00.000-07:00

...could now legally offer you legal advice.

B PASSED THE BAR!

I'm so proud of you, B! So proud, in fact, that I've got your favorite birthday cake waiting for you at home, plus Champagne from your Mom and Dad. We are SO proud of you! Don't worry, I made birthday CUPcakes, not real cake, so the real cake is still only for birthdays. (B is particular about some things!)

For all that you've accomplished this year, sweetie, I am so proud of you and happy to be your wife. Your hard work, dedication, frustration, and passion have paid off. Now we just need the right jingle. I've already got the billboard people on line one...

Florida is TOO Hot

2010-10-29T13:54:00.000-07:00

...for pumpkins. Ours lasted five days on the porch before it rotted. At least in this picture, it still had its little stem. That fell in about 15 minutes later, just before I made B push it into a trashbag and get rid of all the tiny flies that had made it home.

After this, of course, we noticed that everyone else on our block has plastic pumpkins. Posers.

For the record, EVERYTHING rots in Florida. A bag of potatoes? Five days. For real. I've had potatoes start to grow their OWN potatoes. I've never had one rot. Scarlett dug one out of the fire-infested ground that was Sherman's march through Atlanta. But in Florida? Five days. Hearty, my foot.

Ringless

2010-10-22T11:28:00.000-07:00

This week I looked down and noticed that my ring was missing one of the stones from the band setting. Ok, so I didn't so much look as I did feel; apparently I feel around in my rings a lot. Hm, perhaps I wiggled it loose?
Either way, today, I'm in Atlanta, getting ready for a fun wedding weekend, and (engagement) ring-less. I took it in this morning and asked the man, our good friend's brother-in-law, if it might be ready by this afternoon.
"A, it would be a miracle."
Bah! But seriously, he needed to soak it (a sign I should clean it more often?), then clean it, then set the stone and check all the prongs.
But I miss it. I'm glad to have my wedding band, but I know I'm going to have random panic moments in the next few days (yes, days) thinking that I've lost it.
I mentioned to him that he should invest in loaner rings. After all, he's got my most favorite piece of jewelry in there, so I'm definitely coming back. And, who knows? Maybe I'd fall in love with the loaner, too...
Ok, not like we're buying another ring. But I miss mine!

Hold the Phone

2010-10-21T13:15:00.000-07:00

This guy is getting married this weekend!

This guy, of course, happens to be B's best friend, and the lucky man of the beautiful lady whose wedding shower I attended a few weeks ago. Oh and he's my boss. We like to keep our wires mad crossed.

B and I are pulling out in a couple of hours (assuming I ever pack! Or put away the laundry. Or make dinner for the road...) for a whirlwind wedding weekend and a luxurious overnight at the Ritz. I'm excited about the wedding, shopping before the rehearsal dinner (what? I heart Lennox), and, of course, hanging out with all the Atlanta friends for the last wedding in this fall's hat trick triple threat.

We can't wait! Now I just have to figure out what to wear...

Showerpalooza Weekend

2010-10-21T12:53:00.000-07:00

My last week of September went something like this....

Me: "I think I'm going to go to both those showers this weekend."

B: "Which showers?"

Me: "The ones in Atlanta and Birmingham."

B: "Sounds great. I know you'd love that."

Me: "But it's really far."

B: "But you'll see everyone you love."

Me: "That's true... the high school girls, new Atlanta friends, Mom, Grandma, Lloyd, Holly, Alex, Lily, Carolyn, your parents..."

B: "Soo..."

Me: "Maybe I'll stay through Monday..."

So I did! I left Florida after work on Friday and headed to Atlanta, where I had dinner with B's parents. The next morning, his Mom was hosting a shower for the soon-to-be wife (we leave tonight for the wedding!) of B's best friend, so I helped with that, and by helped I mean "ate three brownies," "enjoyed Champagne," and "missed B bunches." (I did, honey!).

The shower was super fun. Champagne, wine, great food, new friends, and fun gifts. I remember how special I felt at my wedding showers, almost as if you can't believe these people would give up a day to come see you before giving up another day to come see you! It was wonderful and, after the shower, B's Mom and I headed to Trader Joe's, so I could stock up on cookies to take home with me.

On Sunday morning, I left for Birmingham for another shower, this one a baby shower for my dear friend from high school. I arrived in town in time to have lunch with my Grandma and my cousin Josh, then headed to the shower, then to my Bham friend Lily's house for a quick catch-up, then to see the rest of my family. By the end, I was exhausted!

Monday morning, I headed home to Florida, taking back roads the entire way. It took forever, but it was amazing. So worth the drive!

Heads Are Heavy

2010-10-21T12:47:00.000-07:00

Thanks for the tummy time, Uncle B!

Peace

2010-10-21T12:44:00.000-07:00

Big man is getting bigger every day!

UNC Trip!

2010-10-21T12:43:00.000-07:00

See? I DO exist! Here I am! My goal for the day is the get caught up on blogging (Haley, are you reading? :)), so why not start with something super fun?

In September, B surprised me by saying, "Heck yes! Let's drive 14 hours round trip to spend 36 hours watching two football games with you family." Ok, not in so many words, but we did have an amazing road trip. UNC was playing GA Tech (Tech won) and Alabama was playing Duke (Alabama won), so we slated a full day of tailgating, football watching, and, of course, eating!

It was such a blast to see three of our favorite kiddos again. We can't believe how much they change every time we leave! Little T, especially.

We drove up after work on Friday, arriving just before midnight, then spent Saturday enjoying loads of football, bouncy houses at UNC, the ultimate seats in the UNC fancy box (fabulous!), then a super hot Alabama game in Duke's stadium. Sunday we went to church, where I saw a few of my babysitting kiddos, then lunch, then B & I headed home while everyone else (save Nana, who was also driving home!) napped (or at least I hope they did; I was exhausted!).

It means to us to get to spend time with family. We're excited to have them come visit us in a few weeks!!

Ah! That Explains It!

2010-10-11T18:47:00.001-07:00

I know I'm crazy behind, and my goal, while B is out of town for a few days, is to catch up. However, I couldn't resist leaving you with this gem.

My big brother L is researching a little of our family history, and by "a little", I mean he found that we're already documented back into the 1300s. In Scottland. Blimey! Or whatever the Scots say. In his poking around, he discovered that our name was originally "DeJohnston" (holla) and that we were married into the Forbes family, aka, my new retirement plan.

Me: L, this is amazing!
L: I know. I mean, I kept looking to see if I could find Jesus in our tree, but then I remembered he didn't have any kids.

Dad would be oh-so proud. :)

Updates tomorrow, including hitting the 17 month mark, a visit to NC to see the kiddos, life at the bakery, a tale of two (dead) cars, "What's that gushing through our ceiling?", "What's that gushing out our AC unit" (also known as "We're Never Buying a House"), and other big news unrelated to me. Happiness abounds!

A Taste In The Life

Hide Your Playgrounds!

Last Night's Dream

Did You Forget?

iPhone Upgrade

Happy Friday! And Remember...

The Good In Blogging

Catalog Living

Long-Suffering Hedgehog

Colby's Favorite Things

Lunch with Colby

Last Night

It's Time

Conversation of the Day

Not A Rat...

Rat

Rainy Florida Days

Just Sayin'

Knock Knock

Home Office

6 Towels

Typical Conversations

Beg, Borrow, Or Steal

Actual Conversations

Learning to Crawl

SATC 2 (See Also: Greetings from 2010!)

Finally!

A Southern Girl At Heart

What a Week

Quote of the Day

Quote of the Day

Quote of the Day

End of the World

Peace

Two Years

Hmmm...

Phone Calls I HAVEN'T Made This Week

Drifting Along

More B

Fernandina!

We Bought a Car?

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Baby Shower!

Turkey Day!

The Zoo!

North Carolina Visit

Amelia Island!

The Plan

How to Make a Minnie Mouse Cake

I Asked For It

Two Things I Love

God is Laughing

Remember That Crazy Interview?

Gym Fail: Why I'm Now a Follower of Matthew McConaughey

2010 In Review

20 Months!

B's Take On Disney World

I Heart Mickey

I Love Disney

New Year's Football!

New Year's Eve

Christmas = Good!

Visitors!

Christmas 2010

I Love This Man

Lately

Behind

Gone Baby, Gone

19 Months

Meet Olivia

The *Almost* Tree

Florida Children...

Christmas in Avondale!

History Repeating Itself?

Times are a' changin'

Save Me!

"Treat" is in the Mouth of the Beholder

Porn for Women, a Picturebook

"Are You Going Back to Sleep?"

Pint-Sized Wisdom

The Almost Tree