Betcha Didn't Know: The OBU Edition

My college alma mater turns 124 years young today.  And in its honor, my fellow blogging Ouachitonians and I are dedicating our posts to its birthday celebration.  Like the icing on a collegiate cake. 

I think everyone wants to say that their college home was/is like family.  That their college experience was something spectacular.  That it was the birthplace of lifelong relationships and friendships.  And I'm sure that that is true to some degree.  But I'm pretty sure that nothing compares to the Ouachita experience.  And I'm pretty sure all my fellow Tigers would agree with me.  Because we know that we have something that the rest of you don't.  And for today....and maybe a little longer!...we're going to allow all of you to be envious of our story. 

BETCHA DIDN'T KNOW......

*  That Ouachita is not pronounced Ouch-uh-taw.  Nor is it pronounced Oooo-uh-chee-tuh.  Nor Watch-i-taw.  Nor O-aw-chi-taw.  It's Wash-i-taw.  Say it with me....WASH.I.TAW.  And we Wash-i-ton-ians take it very seriously.  And have been known to hold linguistics lessons wherever we deem appropriate or necessary.

*  That I can still remember the smell of 3rd Floor McClellan.  The education floor was my home for 3 years, and I would be able to recognize that distinct mix of floor cleaner, hot laminator, and crayons anywhere.anytime.anyhow. 

*  That I studied for many a test on a "bridge." 

*  That after pulling an all-nighter on the bridge before a final one December, I went back to my room to quickly change clothes before my 8:00 test.  That I must have laid down for just a second to "gather my thoughts."  That the next thing I know, my phone was ringing, and it was my professor calling to wake me up and tell me that I was 45 minutes late for his final and that I needed to get across campus pronto.  That only at Ouachita would a professor care enough to do that.

*  That my hallmates and I "borrowed" a neighborhood dog from its front yard just to see if we could sneak it past Mom Taylor in Flippen Perrin.  We succeeded.  And I don't think that dog will ever be the same.

*  That I never pledged a Social Club, but felt as though I was honorary member of every club on campus.  I definitely did enough pledge duties for my friends to have deserved a spot.

*  That I've never written so many Top Ten Lists in my life....thanks to aforementioned pledge duties.

*  That my favorite professor of all time was Dr. Lavell Cole.  That man could make American History come alive by just letting his voice meet its pages.  I still remember the way he would walk into the room, prop himself on the edge of his desk, and just start talking.  Never a note, book, or visual aide in tow.  He is definitely missed.

*  That I took Art in Humanities in May Term.  And that that was the stupidest decision of my college career.  Because it is near impossible to memorize 67 million artists and paintings in two weeks.  *shudder*

*  That I changed my major at least a dozen times.  But still managed to graduate in 4 years.  Don't ask me how I swung that small feat of That.Never.Happens.

*  That I ate waffles for almost every meal.  Because no matter how legendary, Walt's was gross.

*  That I can still hear Minnie saying, "Hey, honey!" to every student that walked through the lines of the cafeteria.

*  That I still have a problem walking on the grass on OBU's campus, because Dr. Ben Elrod's "Save-the-Grass" speeches are forever ingrained in my brain.

*  That it stunk the year that my Chapel seat was on the very.front.row. of Jones.  Because it is hard to skip Chapel when you are on the very.front.row.

*  That is was awesome when my Chapel seat was on the very.last.row. of Jones.  Because it is easy to skip Chapel when you are on the very.last.row.

*  That those last two statements make it sound like I liked to skip Chapel.  It wasn't that....it was just that I liked to sleep.  A lot.

*  That I almost failed Racquetball.  Because I liked to sleep.  A lot.  And it was a VERY long way to walk to the gym.

*  That I left my mark on OBU's campus courtesy of the Gum Tree.  Nasty or not...it was necessary.

*  That I know all the words to "O-U-A-C-H-I-T-A," and sing it to myself everytime I drive past the campus.  (Which is a lot...since I...uh...live here.)

*  That I will never forget the preciousness of my time at OBU.  Like most events in life, it was definitely taken for granted at the time.  But, as I reflect back, I certainly know that I was part of something special.  Something huge.  A piece of community and fellowship that stretches far beyond the borders of a ravine and a river.  I'm part of a family that gets to call itself OBU Alumni...a brotherhood of sorts.  Like we need our own secret handshake or something.  Because when you find another OBU-er, it's like you just...know.

So, Happy Birthday, Ouachita!
You are loved.
And remembered well.

Go Tigers.

If you are interested in reading the other OBU stories go here.  And if have your own OBU story, join us and link up!

What Up, G? (-iraffe)

This is security in manhood personified:

Or could just be an insane case of pink eye and a pathetic feller who left his manly shades at the house.

Toemaytoe.  Tuhmawtoe.

Singing the Blues

I think BLUE gets a bad rap.

Whenever I hear the word BLUE, my mind always shifts to elderly African American men sitting on slat-back chairs, wearing dark glasses, plucking away at loved-on guitars, and bemoaning the loss of love, liquor, and cash. 

Or I think about BLUE suede shoes.  And I don't care if you are the King of Rock, there is nothing okay about leather shoes that sport one of the colors of the rainbow.

Then there is the phrase, "I'm feeling BLUE."  Well, that's just sad. 

And remember Violet Beauregarde?  She was turned into a BLUEberry....not cool. 

"Once in a BLUE moon."  Now that one doesn't sound horrid, except for that it means that something hardly ever happens.  And for a creature of habit like me (or someone who just wants lots of something I like *wink*), then hardly-ever-happening is rather depressing.

And what about poor Eeyore?  Notice that they didn't make the poor, sad, woe-is-me equine yellow.  Or red.  Or even black.  Oh, no...poor fellar is BLUE.

My grandma used to say that I could "talk a BLUE streak."  That didn't sound like a bad thing until she used the same phrase to describe an old biddy in town. 

Then there is BLUE cheese.  That's just nasty.  And you can argue with me if you want to, but cheese shouldn't be BLUE.  It just shouldn't.

 "In a BLUE funk."  That one just sounds dreadful, both literally and figuratively.

And I could go on and on.  (I know, because I googled.)  And the more I thought about BLUE, the more I got all kinds of depressy.  Because I wish that BLUE wasn't looked on so poorly.

Because I love the color BLUE.  And it means all kinds of happy things to me.

Like Texas BLUEbonnets.  And the color of Sawyer's eyes.  And the BLUE of the china patterns in my mama's house. 

It makes me think of the beach.  And of BLUE jeans.  And of blingy sapphires.

And then yesterday, while I was hanging out at the park with the boys, I looked up and saw this:

How could anyone ever say that BLUE was bad?

Because I'm pretty sure that there isn't a prettier sight that does more happy things for my soul than BLUE.

Wavy

I am definitely a wavy kind of person.  In every way except with my hair.  My hair is just wonky.  Nothing close to wavy.

But back to wavy.

Because I do things in waves. 

My hobbies come and go in waves.  My cooking. Waves.  My want-to to stay up on housework.  Waves.  My want-to to do nothing but practice slothdom.  Waves.  Reading.  Waves.  Interneting.  Waves. 

Keeping track of my camera.  Waves.

Seriously.  I can go months on end without even so much as unzipping the camera bag.  And then there are other times that I keep my camera with me and photograph ever millisecond of my day, not wanting to miss an ounce of it.

Today was one of those days.  When the waves were high and rolling.

Spring Break started for Rascal Academy today.  The husband is off of work for the week, and we spent the whole day frolicking in the sunshine together.  We played a rousing game of backyard baseball in which Tate and I whooped up on the bigger boys.  *Woot!Woot!*  We got our ground ready for our garden.  We blew some bubbles into the blue sky.  And we all came in with pink cheeks and shoulders from the Spring sunshine.  It was blissful.  Really.

And thankfully it was a good-wavy day.  And the camera was with me.  All day.  And I was able to capture this.....

Spring is here.

And my happiness about that ain't waving.

But my thought-process regarding posting this particular picture of myself might actually wave around the other way.  Tomorrow I will wonder why I did that. 

Oh well. 

Waves.

It's how I...well...roll.

Me and Mr. Schue

Please know that I see the complete irony of my profession of lobsterage with the husband in my last post, and then today's.  It's how I tend to roll.  And, lucky for me, the husband is quite secure with all of my extra-marital affairs with fictitious characters. 


GLEE.

Possibly the best show ever.  It is actually quickly gaining speed to overtake my beloved Friends as my all-time favorite.  I never thought I'd say that.  Definitely feels like infidelity.  Like I'm trading one Rachel for another. 

What I adore most about GLEE, though, is that it is High School Musical for grown-ups.  And I love me some Wildcats.  Drama and showtunes all wrapped up together just rocks.  And when you add pretty people....well...just shut the window and call me Edgar.

It is also possible that I enjoy a heaping helping of the GLEE gang because of Mr. Schuester.  Swoon.  Like in the category of Mr. Darcy's swoonage. 

See...he's very special, isn't he??? 

Now...switch gears and cut to this morning.

I had set my alarm for 4:45 a.m. for 15 minutes of snooze-allocation.  Then I could be up by 5; teeth brushed and tennis shoes laced up by 5:15; and to the gym by 5:30 to meet my gymeeps. 

Before I progress, let me chase another rabbit down a twisty trail.  It is a documented fact that if I awaken to a loud, harsh, blaring beeping then it takes me to a very nasty place.  So, I have always opted for the clock radio option when it comes to alarms.  It just ensures a longer lifespan for those around me.  But since Rosie has her iHome, I treat myself to a wakeup call from my playlists.  It's a party every morning now.

Back to this morning.

All I remember is that I was with Mr. Schue.  In the GLEE music room.  And Mr. Schue was singing "Endless Love" to me.  And I was swooning.

And then I was back in my bed.  And the clock said 5:30.  And I had slept 45 minutes while listening to Mr. Schue croon to me.

It was blissful.

Even if it made me uber late to the gym.

Luckily Lisa completely understands the beauty of the Mr. Schuester dreams and forgave me for leaving her high and dry on the elliptical. 

It's what friends are for.

Broncos, Plays, MIRL's, and a Winner. Woosh. I'm Tired.

I've met myself coming and going today.  And I don't like the view of me from behind, so this has been a truly traumatic day.

Really. It hasn't. 

Everything has been a good thing, it is just when it is all crammed into one day, I feel slightly overwhelmed
and a bit verklempt.

*** We had our family pictures made this morning.  We are so fortunate to be blessed with an amazing photographer in our small town that not only takes amazing pictures, but is a great friend.  She has an amazing gift of making our family just look good, despite the non-smiler (ahem.), boys who step square in every mud puddle on the way to the studio, and my face that insists on busting out in zits on picture day.  Kelly took that picture of us that is up there on my header a couple of years ago.  She's great.  Really great.

So I called her last night and asked about setting up a sitting.  And she said, "How about 9:45 tomorrow?" and I about swallowed my tongue.  But, because I have issues with telling people "no," I agreed and then began to stress.  I had zero idea as to what we would wear and knew that today was going to be crazy busy anyway.

But, believe it or not, we pulled it together.  We look like Denver Broncos fans all dressed in navy and orange, but we wore it because everyone already had something in their closet, and I didn't have to go buy anything new for the pictures.  So....go Broncs.

Kelly is supposed to be putting up a link to the pictures to view them online, so as soon as she does, I'll post them so that you can check them out.  They turned out great.  I'm really very proud of them.

***Tonight the boys are in a little play being put on by our homeschool co-op.  They are doing a version of "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever" which is a precious little story about the realization of the true meaning of Christmas.

I have to admit that my attitude has not been the best about the play, but I'm trying to keep it in check.  I know that this is a great experience for the boys and am trying to not let the busyness of my schedule interfere with my excitement for them. 

But I will be glad when it is over.

***I have suitcases scattered all over my house, and I am trying to finish up the last of our laundry.  We are heading out early early in the morning for an all day road-trip.  But as hard as my body tries to talk my mind into being all stressed and to not look forward to the trip, my heart and mind pull through and just make me giddy. 

We're heading to Georgia.

The land of peaches.  And pine trees.  And Tiffani.

Tiff is my bestest bloggy buddy, but I really just call her family.  I know people don't understand this whole weird world that we all live in here in our computers, but I've decided it doesn't really matter.  We get it.  That's what matters.

The boys and I are holing up at Tiff's house with her Belle-ish and Bear-ish clan, and we are planning on having the best time.  We've planned plenty of time to giggle and snort and guffaw.  And we are going to act like it is totally not the first time that we are meeting in the skin.  Because we already know everything there is to know about eachother...so we're just going to pick right up where we left off. 

And to add the cherry on top of an already fabulous week, I get to meet Michele (who will probably try to shove carrot juice down my throat, but I'll be so excited to meet her that I'll drink it willingly...maybe) and Elizabeth (who just may possibly be the cutest girl ever).  I also get to meet Tiffani's family, including her sweet baby sister Taylor who is a perpetual blog lurker!  

My boys have been counting down the days until they get to play with Connor and Julia, and even the husbands are stoked about hangin' together and doing man things. 

It is going to be a blessed weekend.  One that Tiffani and I have been praying over for a long time now, and it is so hard to believe that it is finally here.  We're praising Jesus for His goodness.

***One last thing.  We have a winner from the giveaway the other day.  MIMI from FRUMP'S FINDINGS, you won!!!  I so want to send every one of you a copy of Hinds' Feet On High Places, because it is just that good.  If you get a chance, run to the library and check it out or just pick it up at the bookstore (it's a keeper, so it's worth the cash!).  You won't be disappointed!  Congratulations, Mimi!!!!

Random Integer Generator

Here are your random numbers:


12


Timestamp: 2009-12-04 19:56:26 UTC


I'm off to pack.  And run lines for the play.  And pack some more. 

Have a blessed weekend!

Guestie Bestie

I'm a terrible hostess.  Like always forget to offer lemonade and don't clean the toilet for company terrible.  I also don't close the door to my laundry room or vacuum up the squashed Cheetos that live in my carpet.  I just don't.

But, I'm a great guest.  I never look for spider webs in corners, and I don't mind heaps of dishes in sinks.  I don't critique fabric choices or paint colors.  I don't care if you answer your door in your jammies, and I won't tell your mama that you didn't make your bed. 

So the fact that I have so many great friends that are amazing hostesses works out wonderfully for me.  I don't have to do any of the grueling dirty work, and they can relax when I'm around.

My bloggie bestie, Tiffani, over at Bears and Belles, is one of those gracious hostesses.  And she was so super kind to ask me over to her place to not only hang out and slurp some virtual lemonade, but to guest post.

Head on over HERE to check it out.

Thanks, Tiff, for having me over.  As always, it was super fun!! 

I'm a GLEE-fully Giddy Girl

Have you seen this show?

With these people?

If not, you are missing out of something pretty fantastic.

If so, then you know of the divinity in which I speak.

Amazing. Simply majestically amazing.

GLEE is this fantastic mix of High School Musical meets Grease meets Porky's.

Really.

And it just makes me happy.

It hasn't been since my beloved Friends at Central Perk, that a show has made me this ding dang giddy.

And now I get to watch it. Every.Single.Wednesday. And to tide me over on all the other 6 days, I can watch full episodes online.

Not sure it gets better than this.

Gettin' My Shop On

I think I was born with a shopping bag in one hand and a fistful of plastic in the other. Because this girl loves to shop.

It doesn't even matter what it is. I could be shopping for mens' razorblades and a mega pack of Charmin. I'm all over it.

So it is needless to say that ploppin' this girl in a store with faincy flip flops and peasant tops makes my mind do all kinds of crazy bizness.

Now. Before I go on....I'll tell you that this whole shopping fetish of mine has gotten me in some trouble. Ok. A lot of trouble. So now my fistful of plastic has been narrowed down to my debit card and the cash that I carry with me only when the sun is green and the clouds are orange....uh never.

So even though I don't go all ape-crazy at the sight of clearance racks and sale papers anymore, I do still have to practice my calming breathing techniques that I learned in my birthing classes (which I never used for birthing the rascals, by the way. So I'm glad that enduring those horrid classes has paid off in some way.) to focus on the greater task ahead....like paying for the electricity it takes to run my blowdryer. Priorities, fo shiz.

So I was super proud of myself yesterday.

Remember? School shopping with my sister? At The Land of All Things Great and Shoppy?
Where I wasn't shopping for reasons that I can't tell you yet?

Oh, how I looked. And touched. And felt the feel of cotton. And rayon. And linen. And I'm sure that even poorly made polyester passed through this fingertips.

BUT I REFRAINED.

For the most part.

I did scoop up a couple of incredible bargains that would have been sinful to pass up. I'm pretty sure that the 8th Deadly Sin is "Stupidity." Because if you see a darn cute shirt that needs a good home, and it is hanging on the rack with a dangling tag of $4....then you are just STUPID if you don't buy it.

Or the super cute pair of silver shoes that were sitting in Target needing a home on my feet.

Because then I would have been guilty of the STUPIDITY for not rescuing the shoes from the red-tag doom they were experiencing, AND I would have been guilty of the STUPIDITY for passing up silver shoes in general.

And that would have been a double whammy.

Good thing I didn't fall prey to that monstrosity.

And to celebrate my conquership over STUPIDITY, I'm staying home today. In my parents' house. In my jammies. And I'm slurping coffee all day. And watching an Anne of Green Gables marathon.

And I probably will wear my silver shoes.

Because they are just that cute. And it would be sinful not to. Really.

The Best Things Come In 3s

I have about 6 blog posts drafted. And nary a one has been published. Because I just can't seem to get my words out. I don't know if I'm going through a blog funk or what, but my brain and my fingers just can't seem to get their act together.

So...I decided to make a plan. A blog post plan. At least for today.

And I'm limiting myself to 3 categories. Because that seems like good organizational genius.

(The best is the last, but don't you dare scroll through the first 2 in a whacko attempt to beat my system. I have ways of finding out....oh yes I do.)

First on my agenda: A recap of what we've been up to. But I'm going to fill it with lots of eye fodder and go easy on the wordage. You're welcome.

Baseball: Tournament is over. Boys didn't win. Found out that parents are sorer losers than kids. Go figure. Boys had fun. (No pictures....sorry.)

Fourth of July: Spent at the baseball field. And in the car driving to inlaws. Watched fireworks from inside MIL's van in desperate attempt to not be eaten alive by horse-sized Missouri mosquitoes. (No pictures....more sorry.)

Fifth of July: Took 3 hour nap while at MIL's, because I could. Ate homemade icecream...yum. And spent 5 hours in the car with uber-exhausted kids and grouchirific husband. (No pictures....still sorry.)

Sixth of July: Had good intentions to clean my house. Didn't happen. Took a nap and laid around all day. Blissful laziness. Then.....

We headed over to a belated 4th of July party and surprise birthday shindig at some of our besties' house.

Those of us who didn't have to meet our personal trainer at dark o'thirty the next morning ate these.

And those of us who had to meet with the exercise nazi ate these.

I ate 3 hotdogs. If you're wondering which group I was in.

Then we celebrated Lisa's birthday.

And there were even party hats....because every good party needs a party hat....even if they are Transformers because that is all that WM had.

And there was lots of chit-chatting.

And posing for pictures.

And then fireworks outside put on by the master pyrotechnics team of Wes-N-Kirk.

And then, much to the chagrin of our resident doctor friend, we allowed the little people to shoot off their own. The Good Doctor even took pictures of the children doing so...but I'm pretty sure that they were to be used as evidence if/when the need ever arose.

And there was lots of laughing....as always whenever our motley crew gets together!

Happy 6th of July!

Second on my agenda: It's time for ASK AMBER ANYTHING! It's been awhile since I've asked for questions, and since I'm suffering from some minor bloggy blockage, then I'm handing you the reins to spur my posting. So....just leave me a question in the comments about anything your little heart desires, and I'll give it a whirl. (Remember....anything goes....from personal questions to my theory on why MJ wore only one glove.)

Third on my agenda: Because I'm having a day heavy on the BLECH, I'm in the mood for a little pick-me-up. And nothing picks me up more than seeing people I love smile. And because I heart you all so stinkin' much....than it's time to make you smile. And so....IT'S TIME FOR A BLOGGY GIVE-AWAY!!! (See...I told you that I saved the best for last!!)

I was in my local Christian book store the other day and found the most amazing set of bracelets. They are sterling silver, bangle style, and have various designs with Bible verses and words of truth. They are so beautiful, and so wearable with anything.

SO...I picked up one and am going to send it to one of you sweet people. Because I heart ya!!

All you have to do is leave me a comment. (And that should be easy, because you are already asking me a question....right?!) I'll do a random drawing on Friday, July 10, so you have several days to enter. And enter more than once if ya want....I don't mind!

So....there ya have it.

Can't wait to hear from ya!

And thanks for being so patient and wading through all that gobbledygook!

Why Do We Still Say "Broken Record"? Why Not "Scratched CD"?

I had a great day with my girlfriends today.

We laughed. We spent money. We ate good food. We spent more money. We learned some things about each other that we didn't know. And we spent even more money.

And I got new flip flops.

Perfect day.

But as thankful as I was for my new dresses and beloved orange wedgey shoes, I was so grateful for just time spent with friends.

Go ahead and dig out your Turtle Wax so that you can rub down this broken record, because I know that I have said this exact same thing no less than eleventy hundred times, but I find myself wholly overwhelmed with the genuineness of God-blessed friendships.

I've had a lot of friends in my life. But I have a very, very short list of good friends that I've had. Friends that have accepted every piece of me. Bad haircuts, sticky kitchen floors, wild kids, bad cooking, ugly shoes, and untanned legs. A very, very short list.

And for the first time in a very long time (more like...EVER) I actually feel surrounded. Surrounded by women that would have my back in a second. That are willing to tell me that I need to get my rear end on a treadmill, that I need to eat artichoke hearts and brussel sprouts for dinner, and that a dress "doesn't do me justice" (which is code for "Not happening, sister. Take it off pronto.").

Sometimes I feel like I don't do my friends justice. That I in no way deserve their time, energy, and love. I can spend hours upon hours second-guessing myself and over-analyzing my flaws. I allow doubt and shame to plague my thoughts and wonder when my oh-so-sweet bubble is going to burst.

And then I remember that my Jesus is the answerer of prayer.

And that He heard me when I was on my knees begging for women like Him to come into my life.

And then I fall on my knees again thanking Him for good gifts.

Gifts totally undeserved.


Here's a huge shout-out to 2 of those gifts, S and J!!! Had a great time today, girls! MUAH! Heart y'all to crazy pieces.

Extreme Mom Makeover

(WARNING...if you are new around these parts, proceed with caution. And then promise me that you'll come back on a "normal" day...Pinky promise. Just trust me.)


I turned 32 yesterday, y'all.


32.

(Go on with all your "You're a baby!" and "You don't know what old is!" mumbo jumbo. I can take it.)

I have been thoroughly spoiled by all my men this birthday round. You all know about Rosie. Here's another picture. Just because she is just that beautiful. And amazing. And pinktastic.






Then the men had to go and make a total mess of my kitchen to produce these....the 3 most mahvalus birthday cakes ever created.





The husband then took one for the princess and let me have my birthday dinner with my bestie, Steph, as he munched on left over fried chicken (yes...the same fried chicken from the cole slaw showdown.)


And then the husband sneaked this onto my nightstand.



Bless his husband heart...he suffered through all my blog reading late last night just waiting for me to set the alarm and hit the sack. Just so that I could discover my new toy. Isn't he the bestest?! And now Rosie has a home. Bless her pink, precious heart.

I'm telling ya....my crown is sitting pretty.


I thought I was done with being doted over. After all...the day after your birthday usually just means back to laundry and dirty dishes.


But, oh no. My men weren't finished.


At least the youngest two men.


Because they treated me to a makeover tonight. They know their mama likes to be pampered.

A makeover that would make a Merle Norman girl envious. I even had my hair done. And eleven types of lotion rubbed all over my legs and arms. Not only do I now look amazing...I smell like a Bath & Body Works threw up on me....twice.



Ready for the big reveal?!







Those are the two makeup artists. Very talented. Especially with their fantastic eye for lipstick application. (Which, by the way, I'm trying to figure out why exactly I have that shade of lipstick in my makeup bag anyway....sceery.)


So what do you think?

You're speechless aren't you?

Me, too.

My Little Piggys Went Out With Their Friends

Girls’ Night.

Heaven in flip flops and snort-giggles.

Last night, I left my testosterone crazed world and stepped out for an estrogen break. A much needed estrogen break, mind you. I’d been up to my much-need-to-be-waxed eyebrows in stinky tennis shoes and remnants of Lego battles (all.over.my.house.), and I was needing to get out….or someone was going to get hurt.

Me and my girly friends headed out. Conversation in the car was light and fun. We heard about a “real-live ghost” and talked about how we despise exercise. We talked a lot about nothing and yawned because we were sleepy…at 5:00 in the evening.

We decided to eat at Chili’s. Here’s a tip….do not eat at Chili’s unless “in-a-hurry” does not apply to you. Because we were there….a really long time. Good thing I was there with good company. We discussed the amazing-ness of Edward (one of my favorite conversations to have), the slowness of our waiter, and the levels of grossness of our houses. And then we discussed what to do next….because even though we were sleepy, there was no way we were going home yet.

We discussed going to a movie. But I don’t like watching intense, make-you-think movies when I’m out with my girlfriends, and that seemed to be all that was playing. Lucky for me, most of the other girls agreed. Because who wants to think? Or be sad? Or contemplate the meaning of life? Ugh. Not me.

Let me insert a side note here: I’ve decided that I’m one of the most flightiest people I know. I have smart friends for a reason…so they can be smart for me. I can hang in conversations about a lot of things, but when talk turns to politics, social activism, and matters of historical significance…..I’m done. I turn to the basket of chips and take my cue to keep my mouth busy eating rather than speaking. I’m lucky that most of my friends get that about me. I’m sure they want to pat me on the head and say, “Bless your heart, Sweetie,” but I’m good with that. Other people, however, don’t appreciate my ignorance for such “important” matters. But, I’ve decided that I’m okay with being the “flighty” friend. I’ll be the one that watches way too much reality tv, that is the hopeless romantic, and that chooses to not read parenting books and just do the best I can (but may whine about it later!). I will also be the friend that will encourage you to buy a new dress, try on blingaliscious flip flops, and eat an extra cookie if you want to. Some would call that an enabler….I just like to think of myself as supportive.

Enough rabbit chasing….

After we FINALLY got our checks and checked our teeth in the bathroom mirror, we headed out for the best part of the evening.

PEDICURES!

Look at these piggys. Aren’t they mah-va-lus?!

The only downfall with getting pedicures is that you have to listen to the chatter of the precious Oriental people that are so super talented when it comes to nail art. There is no doubt that they were discussing and giggling about the nastiness of my feet. Because I would if I were them.

After our toes were beautiful and we were feeling sassy, we headed over to the book store…the only place still open…because we still weren’t ready to go home.

So, we browsed the bargain book aisles, thumbed through some magazines, and discussed the importance of vampire literature. Then we sat down for some good coffee and snort-giggles.

The coffee was good.

The snort-giggles better.

Because we talked like girls should talk when they are together. Because it is good to know that you aren’t crazy….that other people have the same issues that you do. That there is someone who “gets” you. There was some political talk….in which I embarrassed myself by displaying my ignorance, and then resorted to buying a huge cookie and scarfing it. Hello….I’m your flighty friend. And SO okay with it.

We closed the book store down and then headed for home. With pretty toes.

I love Girls’ Night Out so much. It is therapy for me.

And Lord knows I need it.

Thanks, girls! I had a blast….and I’m hearting your toes!!

I've Got a New Man

First of all, THANKS A MAZILLION! for all your sweet comments on this post. You really know how to perk a sister up. I heart y'all something crazy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the world of my love life......

I'm over him. Kinda. It was time for Edward and I to go our separate ways. And though I still find myself pining after him, too many of my thoughts had been consumed with vegetarian vampirey goodness, and it was time that we moved on. Edward is, of course, as devastated by this break-up as I am.

So I've pacified my sad heart by turning to another.


And he is pretty amazing. I've been around the love block with him many-a-time, and I knew that he would be the one that could get me through these dark Edward-less days. So I grabbed this off my shelf...



And I have entrenched myself in my beloved Mr. Darcy. Oh. Be still my heart.

I totally buy into the whole "the book is always better than the movie" philosophy. Case in point: My Edward. He is still so much cuter in my head than he ever could hope to be in that movie. And though the movie was blissfully delicious....it doesn't hold a candle to those books. Because they are just that good.

BUT...

Jane Austin may have just met her match with Hollywood. Because that movie gets me every time. Take a look at this....but make sure you have a hankie handy....to either wipe your tears and/or your drool...whichever comes first.



You may now refer to me as Miss Bennet. Because Miss Edward Lover is so last yesterday.

Tuckered

I forgot to set my DVR.

On Idol night.

Who does that?

Luckily, I walked in the door just in time to catch my beloved Danny belt out some Earth, Wind, & Fire.

Whew! I might have had to cry if I had missed my Danny Boy.

And I still want to chunk my flip flops at the tv when Adam comes on...

So sorry for the blasphemy, Tiffani...but I'm just trying to keep it real.

And this guy....

He's the reason for my late entry into Idol Land. Because only something this cute could give me reason enough to miss the first half of Disco Night. I mean, c'mon....it was Disco Night! I heart Disco almost as much as I heart vampires.....

Back to this guy....

Couldn't you just eat him with a spoon?! He is just that delicious!

His little T-Ball team played their little hearts out tonight. According to Tate, the final score was 61 - 0! Isn't that some incredible score-keeping?! Apparently he gets his math skills from his mama.

All those homers tuckered Little Man out.

Go on. Tell me how cute he is. I'll agree with you.

61 times.

The One Where I Say "Y'all" A Lot

I'm tired, y'all. This weekend has been a doosey for me. All good. All exhausting.

I'm thinking in random spurts, so this blog post will be nothing but.

Read no further...unless you are willing to subject yourself to an overdose of randomosity. Consider yourself warned.

1) I'm going to write this in numbered list form. It will bring the only semblance of order and organization to this post....it seemed necessary.

2) Tate is dealing with the Girl Pants drama remarkably well. He has overheard me a couple of times discuss the GP's, and is coping. I'm pretty much a loudmouth....the GP's weren't going to stay under wraps long. But, luckily, Tate is 4. Doesn't really understand the magnitude of his mama's decision to cross-dress him. And has since been seen wearing only the Ring Master's sequin vest and bow tie with his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle undies. I'm now thinking that the Girl Pants are the least of our worries.

3) Our Little League Baseball Jamboree was Saturday. If you're new to these parts, then you haven't been exposed to my small obsession with baseball. Namely baseball that my kids play. I'm one of those climb-the-fence, lose my voice sports moms. I'm the mom that horrifies her kids when she screams things like "Sweetie" and "Baby" from the bleachers. I also am unopposed to saying ugly things if my sweetie babies' baseball skillz are questioned. So, aside from being out at the fields ALL FREAKIN' DAY....it was right up my alley. I could have done without the splotchy sunburn and Keaton having his b-ball picture made with blue lips thanks to the slushie he drank during Tate's game....but whatever.

4) Saturday night, Kirk and I went on a triple-date with some of our best buddies. We left the kids with a babysitter and headed out for a night on the town. Talking to grown-ups is so much fun....even when no one acts like one! (Had a great time, You Guys! Can't wait to do it again...soon!!!!)

5) I discovered while I was out with our friends that I must be the only one who watches useless tv. Conversations at dinner revolved around Glenn Beck, FoxNews, and political correctness. Uh....I used that time to stuff my face with the most delicious cheese dip in the world. These would be my "smart friends" that I was out with last night. I even everyone out by being the "friend who watches entirely too much reality tv and knows entirely too much about useless celebrity gossip." It takes all kinds.

6) After dinner, we headed to the mall. We were there with all the Jr. High kids who dress weird and are really pumped to be at the mall on a Saturday night. We girls drooled over Vera Bradley bags and tried on dresses. The men looked at baseball bats and frowned when we came out of Victoria's Secret empty-handed.

7) We discussed Britney Spears. And she still scares me. What scares me more is that I know a lot of her songs by heart.

8) Kirk and I flipped a coin this morning to see who was going to get to stay home with puney kids and who got to go to church. He stayed. I went.

9) My smart friends and I all were reminded of how old we are while we yawned our way through church. An 11:00 curfew proved to be too late for us old fogies....

10) I have discovered that Sawyer has mastered the Art of the Spit Wad. Excellent. Nothing else needs to be said about this little matter. Trust me.

11) Our small group at church spent the afternoon with a bunch of great underprivileged kids this afternoon for our service project. We feasted on hot dogs and those yummy frosted sugar cookies from WalMart that just kind of melt in your mouth. Oh my goodness. Cookie heaven. Then we had an Easter Egg Hunt, had a telling of the Easter Story, and then just played, visited, and ate more cookies. And I yawned a lot...because I'm old. Good day. Good people. Amazing Jesus.

12) I am positive that I remember the Bible mentioning that StarBurst Jellybeans exist in Heaven along with streets of gold. Because they are just. that. good.

13) Sawyer was the only one of my kids well enough to venture out of the house today, so I indulged myself in a little only-had-one-kid-hallelujah shopping after we left our project. Amazing that Sawyer can resist the urge to climb around in all the clothes racks when he is the only little person. I reminded him several times that I noticed this spectacular miracle. He rolled his eyes at me. I rolled mine back.

14) New flip flops always make me smile. I got a new pair today. Perfect for the 28 degree weather that is rolling in tomorrow! Global warming my foot.

15) While I was out today, I had to run by the auto parts store to buy new brake shoes for my van. (Look at me typing that like I have any idea what those are.) I was laughed at and mocked by the people who work there when I had to call Kirk on the phone and be the messenger between him and the sales clerk. How am I supposed to know if my van has anti-lock breaks or drums in the back? You can't tell me that I'm the only woman who finds the only thing remotely interesting about car maintenance is the fact that cars do indeed wear "shoes." Seriously.

16) I came home this afternoon to find that my sweet husband had done the laundry. I didn't even think he knew where the laundry room was. I just had to give him a big ole' kiss! And then I rewarded him further by allowing myself to take a nap while he helped my van try on her new shoes.

17) Y'all...he did the laundry!

18) I just got poked in the eye with a golf club. Just totally put a damper on my he-did-the-laundry high.

No. Nothing could squelch that joy. Because, y'all! He did the laundry!! :)

Coming Down

They gave me these.

And I cried. Many times.

I will never have a daughter, but I think I might have just been given a taste of what it is like to be the mother of a bride.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I was asked back in the fall to help with the Prom. By the kids. And when sweet angel babies ask for help, I turn to mush. I was called crazy and insane for volunteering for the job, and I know why....now.

I haven't slept in weeks. To-do lists have run through my head like movie reels, and panic attacks have been spurred on by neurotic DJ nightmares and discussions (*ahem, fights*) over budgets. My hair will glisten with glitter for a week, and I will be okay if I don't have to touch a strand of Christmas lights for...well, ever again. I haven't seen my own kids in 2 days, and I have seen enough tulle and gossamer to do me for a lifetime.

But I wouldn't trade those minutes and hours for anything.

I have worked with teenagers for a long time, but never in my life have I met a group of kids as great as these. The core group was small (very small!), and we saw each other through mountains of drama, laughter, and tears. There were times we thought we just couldn't make it another day, and times we couldn't stand to be in the same room with each other.

To a lot of people (maybe some of you reading this) there are thoughts of "What's the big deal? It was just Prom." But to these kids, it was so much more than "just Prom." It was months of hard work, dedication, perseverance, and overcoming ridiculous obstacles to make their dreams come true. They were told they couldn't do it, but they did! They have endured a lot of negative energy, but they shrugged their shoulders at it (and had a few words to say, too!) and went on!

Last night, I cried for a long time. I'm sure it was a bizarre combination of sheer exhaustion and nostalgia, but my heart smiled for these kids. I watched as they laughed with their friends and snuggled with their dates. The girls twirled in their Cinderella dresses, and the boys tried to pretend like their shiny shoes weren't killing their feet. They danced and giggled and smiled.

And I stood back and took it all in, realizing how incredibly lucky I am. There are a lot of adults who are cynical about kids these days. And though I'll be a first-hand witness that it many times is a reasonable assumption and often warranted, I have been blessed with an amazing gift. I had the chance to see great kids make great big dreams come true. And they invited me to join the party. They trusted me enough to help them make it happen.

Come Monday morning, Prom will begin to fade from their memories. Routine will set back in, and the excitement about Spring Break will take over. It will be back to homework and ball games and monotony. I'll be able to sleep again, and my dining room table will lose its permanent centerpiece of Stumps catalogs. But I have a feeling that we'll be a little different. The kind of different that comes with great success and the formation of significant bonds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

So I cried.

And cried.

And cried.

Because they make me happy.

And because the only thing there last night that was more beautiful than my precious roses....

was them.

That's me with the Prom Committee (minus one....early exit).