Boo!

Ok, so I've obviously and unintentionally taken an extended leave of absence from blogging ... my apologies to my 4 loyal readers out there!!

So the Halloween season is upon us ... I was leafing through a magazine the other day, one I found under our bed. There was this absolutely adorable "little" craft you can do with pumpkins ... It's worth noting here that "little" is how the magazine described the craft on its cover. As in here's a teeny tiny little project involving very little of your time and certainly one that requires no dangerous tools or whatnot. So I'm thinking I should become a crafty person, which I am NOT as anyone who's read this blog knows. Anywho, I digress a bit.

So the "little" craft involves three pumpkins, and on each you put an individual letter to spell "BOO." Sounded cute, so away I went reading and thinking I could actually pull this craft off. Uh-huh. First, you have to actually purchase three exceptionally attractive pumpkins. Then you hollow each one out, and I mean REALLY hollow them out so that the skins are extremely thin. This part is important as the skins must be super-thin so that you can exacto-knife (I'm not even allowed to use this tool) the letters in the pumpkins. THEN you hot-glue-gun (again, not a tool I'm allowed to use) some sort of felt decorations on the pumpkins.

Good grief. It's amazing I actually finished reading the article. That cute "little" craft shall remain where it should: in the pages of the magazine. Or on my cousin, Danielle's, front porch. Have mercy.

That's all ...

Toddlerdom Gone Wild

Alright then, things in the wide world of toddlerdom have run slightly amok ... according to "the books," the entire situation has to do with the age-appropriate egocentricity of the toddler. Knowing why things are happening isn't always helpful, most especially when your daughter is screaming at you over and over (despite the fact that you're standing 3 feet away from her) "MAMA!" "MAMA!" "MAMA!" Wow, 10 hours of that can seriously drive you crazy.

Or my personal favorite: Annie now seems to believe that EVERYTHING is hers. "ME COUCH!" "ME CLOSET!" Or, God forbid, she sees Anthony or me walk into a room carrying something, anything ... "ME FOOD!" (or whatever we're carrying.) I don't think it would matter if we were carrying TNT (no reason we would be, just the first example I thought of) ... it would be "ME EXPLOSIVE DEVICE!" She seems to feel she is in charge of the entire household, but once again the need to be in control is completely normal.

And of course her favorite word: "NO!" (again, normal)

Oddly enough (or maybe not so much) she seems to be a perfect little angel at Moms Day Out ... it's just when we're at home or running errands that she becomes this little demon-person. Honestly, what's frightening is that I've heard that the 3's are worse ... Lovely.

That's all ...

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Well, it would seem we have officially entered the world of potty-training. (for Annie that is; Anthony and I are ok ...) We have now bought the obligatory plays-four-songs-and-might-as-well-spit-out-money-if-you-tinkle princess potty; now the trick is, of course, getting Annie to use it at just the right moment.

For now, she has discovered the "trigger" for the music without actually doing anything except sticking her hand down into the potty (see photo below) and finds the entire situation fascinating. We have to go "try" at least 7,000 times each day (no complaints, though, because this is how she'll learn, or so all the books say.)

"Annie tee-tee," she says before beginning to wildly yank her pants down ... I'm still working on not laughing at the sight of her sitting on the potty while still wearing her diaper. God bless her ... she really does crack me up.

As with all of parenthood to this moment, potty-training, too, shall be a grand adventure. (or something positive and inspiring like that!)

That's all ...

P.S. When did the kids start growing up SO fast?

Saved By The Animal Kingdom

Sorry for the delay in blogging, but discretionary time is GREATLY lessened when the tiny one is around ... I am, however, happy to report that pacifier time is down to only nighttime. Annie does occasionally ask for a paci (or "faci" as she calls it) during the day, but being that she has the attention span of a fly, distracting her is not hard. Example:

"Faci?"

"What, honey?"

"Faci in here?"

"Oooh, Annie, look at that bird in the backyard."

"Bird?" And off she runs to the window to keep a check on the animal kingdom.

Just like taking candy from a two-and-a-half-year-old.

Seriously, though, it would be lovely if there were a book out there that described how to raise your child day-by-day. Or even hour by hour. Otherwise, how am I to know if I'm doing it right?? Wait, maybe I'll just write the book anyway. I could call it: Motherhood: It's Not Okay If Your Baby Goes to High School With a Pacifier.

That's all ...

Hello, the World!

Update on stomach plague: Anthony and I have come back to the world of the living, and Annie is coming home tomorrow. Not a moment too soon! (and thankfully, she has not been sick at all.)

The pictures are from our fabulously wonderful babysitter/friend, Kayla, who took them last time she was home. (Also pictured are Kayla's nephew and, of course, the beloved Baby Ethan.) Oh, and a pacifier that yes, we need to work on removing from precious Annie's little mouth (for good.) But that's for another day ...

This, Too, Shall Pass

Things to Remember When Going Through a Stomach Plague:

• in order to make your cream-colored towels blush-colored, just toss them right in with your dark laundry on accident.
• become addicted to You Tube, particularly any and all segments containing Tina Fey portraying Sarah Palin. The likeness is eerie.
• know that People magazine is full of helpful hints. For example, trenchcoat-style jackets are "in." I personally did not know this as I have been too busy ensuring that my t-shirts and jeans/yoga pants were appropriate for my daily destination. ( ** Perhaps an emphasis is necessary here. Choosing the daily t-shirt is of the utmost importance: I would never wear my "You say psycho like it's a bad thing" t-shirt to drop Annie off at Moms Day Out. It just seems wrong.)
• become VERY familiar with the following should-be-their-own-food-group items:

Imodium

saltine crackers

ginger ale

Sprite

grits

mashed potatoes (don't actually cook them, just buy the kind you can microwave. )

** Cooking saps necessary strength you may need for ... well let's just say trips to the bathroom. Don't cook. (ok, if you're like me just use the current stomach plague as an excuse to continue current life as a non-cooker.)

• If your spouse also comes down with the stomach plague, separate bathrooms are just lovely.
• Find extraordinarily distracting activities for current bed-ridden (between mad dashes to the bathroom) state. Maybe reading is good if you have even slightly moved past the point of keeping your eyes closed and your body entirely still so as not to disturb the monster within. If you have moved to the point of the plague where you are interested in even a bit of reading, might I again suggest magazines, even if they make you realize you no longer know any actor, singer, etc. under the age of 25?
• Find something really entertaining on TV, again only if you're to this point in the misery. For me, it was turning to "Friends" and smiling a bit, even as I realized how much I still miss this show. I also realized how incredibly attractive all six of those people are, especially when I caught sight of myself in the bathroom at one point and was scared of my own reflection.
• Remember my mom's advice: "this, too, shall pass." (literally and figuratively.)

P.S. To clarify: because Annie is (so far) not at all sick, she is safely in Columbus with her grandparents.

That's all ...

The Plague

some sort of stomach bug/hideous plague has descended on our house but shall return soon ...

Sometimes

Alright then, tonight's post may be a bit different ... for those of you who don't know me, my undergraduate degree is in journalism, so at heart I am a writer. And yes, I'm going somewhere with this, and that is to say that ideas for writing occur at strange times, usually when I'm in the shower at night, just as was the case tonight.

My oldest and dearest friend, Teri (we've been friends for 30+ years, so she knows me pretty well) recently commented that on my blog I sometimes paint a sort of rose-colored glasses view of things. (I'm paraphrasing, but she was completely right, and for that I thank you, T.)

I never mean to imply that every single day with Annie is perfect and wonderful and full of fireworks and loveliness, because it's not. Nope. She finds my last nerve and just stomps on it sometimes. And yes, she drives me crazy, too ... at least sometimes. Maybe that's what motherhood is about ... "sometimes" should be the mantra.

For the other gazillion hours, I can't imagine life without her. Or what life was like before her. Truly. Annie is this wonderful little creature, so full of life and zest and spunk and so beautiful. I have no idea how I was so incredibly blessed with this most amazing child. Still, being a mom is not easy, but I think you just do the best you can, go to sleep at night and then do it all over again the next day. And pray. A LOT.

The other thing I feel compelled to mention is life after a hysterectomy because that has certainly affected me for the last few months. Physically, yes, I feel better ... ok, the best I've felt in years. But emotionally? Well, it's just not easy. It's sort of like having PMS and having no control over your moods. And yes I know a lot of it is hormones trying to get back in sync, but it's still hard to handle.

The other part of having a hysterectomy is that you're focused on feeling SO much better that only later does it hit you that you'll never have a biological child again. Ever. This is not to say I am overlooking the inexpressible gratitude I feel for Annie, only to say that the finality of the situation is one I am struggling with. Sometimes.

So, please, I never mean to paint a picture of my life that isn't quite accurate. I'm human; I make mistakes, and I try again the next day. I think everyone does. And I KNOW moms do.

Finally, Teri, you may never know how much I value our friendship, our phone calls about everything or nothing, and your ability to see me for exactly who I am. I love you.

That's all ...

A House Divided

Well, another weekend, another Saturday, another football game ... since my in-laws were in town and kept Annie Saturday night, Anthony and I went to the Vanderbilt/Auburn game. For those who might not know me, my loyalties at this game were a smidge conflicted ... Anthony works at Vandy, but my dad went to vet school at Auburn and I've rooted for Auburn WAY longer than I've been rooting for Vandy. However, since I was wearing a Vanderbilt t-shirt and sitting in a section of the stadium SURROUNDED by very vocal Vandy fans, it was truly difficult.

I think if I had gotten up and cheered for Auburn ... well, I'm just not sure what would have happened. So for the first bit of the game I more or less just sat there, but this was not working as I am not a just sitting there kind of gal, so I had to cheer for somebody. Wow, did I cave fast ... such an easily influenced soul I am.

Nonetheless, when the game ended with Vanderbilt winning by one point, we were literally stuck in our seats. Truly we couldn't have left if we wanted to since no one was moving ... seems Vandy hasn't defeated Auburn in like a million bazillion years, and the surrounding Vandy fans did NOT want to leave. They actually said things like they just wanted to "revel in the moment." Ok, fine, but it was super-hot yesterday, so all those packed-in the stadium people were beginning to smell a little not-so-fresh. I don't mean to be insensitive, but I just wanted to head for the car. But nope, the team re-emerged onto the field and we sat for a good half-hour or so. (as opposed to a bad half-hour, I guess.)

I am, however, happy to report that Mississippi State did NOT lose this weekend. Ok, fine, they didn't play but still. We'll take what we can get.

(And, Kel, if you're reading this, your strength in the face of life's adversities has always been inspirational to me ... don't forget that, and give Spence a big kiss from Annie.)

That's all ...

Politics? Nah!

Alright, now I am NOT about to get all political on this blog because frankly it's just not my place ... everybody has the right to decide who to vote for (of course you're more than welcome to write my name in despite the fact that I have very little clue as to where most countries are located.) However, just once I would so love to turn on the TV and find some positive political ad, interview, etc. Perhaps it could go something like this:

Barack Obama: "You know, Sarah, I may totally disagree with your feelings on blah, blah, blah, but your glasses are really cool."

Sarah Palin: "Thank you, Barack, and I think your wife has an amazing sense of style, even if I do think your opinion on foreign policy is absurd."

Barack Obama: "Ok, of course it is your right to think that, but by the way your up-do is always looking good."

Sarah Palin: "Again, thank you. And you, well, there just aren't many people who wear a suit as well as you do, even if I completely go against your feelings about how to fix the economy."

Barack Obama: "Wow, thank you for the compliment, even if I do find you to be a bit of a moron."

Sarah Palin: "You are more than welcome, even if I also find you to be a bit idiotic yourself."

At this point they would laugh together and perhaps share a bonding hug, vowing to always be friends and play together at recess.

That's all ...

That's All

Ok, so all regular readers (all 4 of you) prepare yourselves for a bombshell.

Being a stay-at-home mom is NOT glamorous. (I have recently watched "The Devil Wears Prada" so my feelings here are most likely under the influence of the movie.) It does not involve couture. I do not rise from slumber each morning, put on full make-up, enter a could-be-a-house size closet to choose a staggeringly fashionable outfit with the perfect accessories and stilettos and face my day looking like something out of next month's "Vogue."

Nope, most days involve t-shirts and either yoga pants or jeans. That is if I actually make it out of my pj's. Today is not one of those days. I did manage to brush my teeth, though. For special days (i.e. Mom's Day Out, Kindermusik or playdates) I may even bust out the Listerine but not today. Sorry, precious husband.

It is, at this very moment, 1:21 in the afternoon, and I am still in my pajama pants and a t-shirt. To some of you this may sound luxurious. Rest assured, it is not. I am currently sporting a stain of what I can only hope is a bit of cereal bar from my child's breakfast on my shirt and completely exhausted from entertaining a 2 1/2-year-old for the last 5 hours ( including reading Goodnight Moon at least 10 times in a row. ) I chose today to be home because it is the only day this week we don't have some activity planned. And now, thankfully, Annie is napping.

As for me? Well, as Miranda Priestly would say, That's all.

Gatlinburg Pictures, Part 2

Game Day or Bust

Well, it's Saturday, which OF COURSE means football. Don't get me wrong here ... I've grown up watching football since forever; in my family it's just sort of expected that you know what the position of wideout means or what a quarterback blitz is.

When Anthony and I first got married, all of our Saturdays during football season revolved around the games that were on TV. Things were a bit different back then, and I'm not just talking about the fact that our mortgage was something like $15. On those wonderful football Saturdays, we'd just lay around, eat chips and dip and watch football ALL DAY. Literally. It was such a simple time.

Actually, things are still pretty much the same when it comes to game day. Even though both of us went to Mississippi State, only one of us claims to "bleed maroon and white." Personally, I'm ever so slightly less loyal and more than a bit mortified by State's recent win/loss records. If Anthony would let me, I'd run out front right this very second and change our Mississippi State flag to I don't know, maybe Georgia or USC? But nope. I have to "hate" Ole Miss ( a bit difficult since my cousin, mom, uncle, grandfather and brother-in-law all went there) and act absolutely outraged when they win a game. (Please no one tell Anthony that I almost always sneak into the closet to call Kelly after Ole Miss has won a game and be happy for her. He might disown me. Actually he probably would.)

Sadly, Mississippi State plays LSU tonight at LSU. I don't think it's going to be pretty, and most tragically it's going to be on national television. Perhaps we'll be the only two people on the planet watching the game. We can hope ...

Stay Tuned

Well, most dear and faithful readers, we have returned safely from our jaunt to Gatlinburg ... being that we came home with over 300 pictures, I am only providing a teeny-tiny sampling here, but I promise I won't be posting all gazillion pictures in the days to come!

We did have a really wonderful time, and I'll relate some of our adventures (falling into streams and whatnot) soon ...

Look Out, Gatlinburg -- Here We Come!

We're off to Gatlinburg in the morning and will be getting home late next week, so I'll return to the blogging world soon after that ...

The Best Medicine For a Wounded Heart

Katie

And so another one of my precious animals has left this earthly life ... my most beautiful and regal cat, Katie, was put to sleep this morning. She was gorgeous and dainty but boy could she hold her own if the need arose.

The story of how she came to be in my possession goes all the way back to a parking lot at Mississippi State when I was a sophomore and thought she could live in my dorm room undetected. From there, things just get a bit more interesting ... in her lifetime, Katie basically lived all over Mississippi, including with my great-aunt (Auntie) in Meridian while my roommate and I looked for and eventually found a place in Starkville we could afford that would also allow us to resume ownership of precious Katie.

She lived with me from then on, moving to Biloxi with me when I got my first job after grad school and then back to Columbus after Anthony and I got married. Then after discovering Anthony was allergic to cats, my parents very graciously offered to let Sam and Katie TEMPORARILY live with them.

That was around 9 years ago, and she'd lived there quite happily ever since.

As you know, in my family we're pretty much all "animal people." So I like to think that Katie's in heaven somewhere with Sam and Auntie and most likely ruling the roost.

At least that's what I'll see when I picture her.