Hay Is For Horses

Hey, Amber, did you enjoy being quiet yesterday?


I did, thank you....until I was tar and feathered for it. Who knew that some people (ahem, Jim-Dad!) hold such high expectations for me to be Miss Chatty Cathy.




Note to self: Talk more. It humors your father.




Hey, Amber, what'd you think about Idol last night?


It was blissfully amazing. And wonderfully shocking. And fabulously entertaining. My favorite moment was when Kris hugged his cute-as-a-bug's-ear wife after he won. And the bug's ear's dress....so cute.



Note to self: Try to find cute dress in case Kirk ever wins American Idol. Or in case he does something like mow the lawn...because you'll need a cute dress to congratulate him in.




Hey, Amber, what'd you think about Keith Urban and Kris singing together last night?


Plop. Plop. Plop.
Oh sorry. That was the drool puddle forming under my chin.

What? You want to watch it again, too? Oh...okay. I'm here to please.

Note to self: Remember to pat yourself on the back for DVRing Idol, so that you can rewatch that piece of music magic over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over.....

Hey, Amber, what'd you think about Adam last night on Idol?


Weird wire shoulder pads. Weird hugacious platforms. Awesome graceful loser.



Note to self: Remember to never wear clothing with extra shoulders.




Hey, Amber, what'd you think of Queen Latifah on Idol?

Say what? Queen Latifah was on Idol? Is that who was singing with Lil? Oh. Whoops. I was munching on a Wheat Thin when they announced her, and I sure didn't recognize her. I did recognize Rod Stewart, however. And my prom date my senior year wore a tux jacket just like his. Black plaid. Awesome.


Note to self: Black spandex is never okay. Nor are black plaid dinner jackets.




Hey, Amber, why were you crying today?

No reason. Just that TATE GRADUATED FROM PRESCHOOL TODAY. I'm not sure my heart has ever broken like it did today. THE baby transitioned today. And I didn't like it. Not one bit.


Note to self: Stay away from transition. Or at least bring Kleenex.


Hey, Amber, did you take any pictures of Tate's preschool shindig?

Well. Of course. What kind of mom do you think I am? The kind that forgets birthdays and makes her son wear girl pants?









Note to self: Remember to kiss that sweet face a bazillion times a day. And don't ever put that sweet face in girl pants again.


Hey, Amber, what'd you do tonight?

I ate ice cream. And went to a baseball game. Shocking.


Note to self: Eat more ice cream.


Hey, Amber, whatcha doing tomorrow?

I'm going to school. For the last time until fall. I'm going to shove my khakis to the back of my closet, and I'm going to dig out my swimsuit cover up. I'm going to hide my loafers in the back of my closet, and I'm going to inventory my flip flops. I might even make a spreadsheet. And I'll probably eat ice cream. To celebrate summer. And my spreadsheet.


Note to self: Eat ice cream tomorrow. To celebrate.


Hey, Amber, do you wanna leave us with one more picture of Tate...since he is a big boy now and all?

Oh, alright. You twisted my arm.





Note to self: Stop crying, and don't wipe your nose on your sleeve.

Oh....and watch that Urban and Allen video again....