The Top Ten Ways You Know That Fall Is On It's Way To Alabama
10. What's that?? Nuthin' but silence, baby. The kids have been in school for about three weeks. Nice...
9. You have went through your closet (and the kids' AND your husband's) to strategically remove all tank tops and anything abnoxiously tropical. (Side note: my husband does not wear tank tops or tropical prints. Your welcome, Chuck. )
8. The AC in your car has been moved from the MAX setting to the regular AC setting.
7. The pool and been drained. ((sniff))
8. You realize after a few minutes outside in the evenings that you don't need your arsenal of insect repellents, the vat of "Skin-So-Soft" you stocked up on, or the bee suit you bougt off E-Bay. So long suckas!! (Pun DEFINITELY intended!)
7. Somebody said SOMETHING about a football game on Saturday... :D
6. Mums are showing up everywhere from front porches to Homecoming corsages. Ahh, memories...
5. Neighbors are getting re-aquainted as heat advisories for the elderly and the very young have been lifted.
4. Your children come into the living room dressed for bed in last years flannel p.j.'s. True story.
3. You wonder how long you can make your pedicure last before it's "closed toe shoe season." I mean, why spend the money when they're just going to be covered up so no one can see them, right??!!
2. You start thinking that chili for supper is not such a bad idea...
1. Wal-Mart has started putting out their Christmas decorations. Fo real.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
I Can Dream, Can't I?!
It has occurred to me more than once when I view my blog that the cute little sillhouettes to the right are a little misleading. Well, only one, really. MINE.
I think that everyone else's is dead-on. I couldn't have done better if I had blackened out an actual pic of the kids and Chuck... but mine... well, it looks nothing like me. Kinda makes me feel bad, too, like I'm contributing to some kind of "false advertising" or something. It could definitely pass for the "me" circa 1993, but not the "me" of today, for sure.
I'm not completely to blame, of course. WWW. WIDDLYTINKS.COM did not have a slightly overweight female figure with super short hair, so I was reduced to choosing a sillhouette that represented me in a former life. Before kids. Twenty five pounds ago. When I had the time and energy to have a hairstyle other than the one I stole from Sinead O'Conner.
Maybe I should shoot those guys over at WiddlyTinks an e-mail and tell them that a body type of Queen Latifah and the hairstyle of Jamie Lee Curtis would be a more accurate representation of me these days. Maybe they would even be inclined to make that particular sillhouette for me. You know... just for kicks. I guess for now I'll keep it the way it is. And I'll keep to my South Beach Diet. And maybe sometime in the not so distant future, it may come to resemble me once again. I can dream, can't I?! ;)
I think that everyone else's is dead-on. I couldn't have done better if I had blackened out an actual pic of the kids and Chuck... but mine... well, it looks nothing like me. Kinda makes me feel bad, too, like I'm contributing to some kind of "false advertising" or something. It could definitely pass for the "me" circa 1993, but not the "me" of today, for sure.
I'm not completely to blame, of course. WWW. WIDDLYTINKS.COM did not have a slightly overweight female figure with super short hair, so I was reduced to choosing a sillhouette that represented me in a former life. Before kids. Twenty five pounds ago. When I had the time and energy to have a hairstyle other than the one I stole from Sinead O'Conner.
Maybe I should shoot those guys over at WiddlyTinks an e-mail and tell them that a body type of Queen Latifah and the hairstyle of Jamie Lee Curtis would be a more accurate representation of me these days. Maybe they would even be inclined to make that particular sillhouette for me. You know... just for kicks. I guess for now I'll keep it the way it is. And I'll keep to my South Beach Diet. And maybe sometime in the not so distant future, it may come to resemble me once again. I can dream, can't I?! ;)
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
A Little Pick-Me-Up
Today I was reminded of something a dear older lady once said to me. Allow me to set the scene:
I was working as a waitress in a nice restaurant that was owned by a good friend of mine. Her mother was a frequent patron and you could just tell she had been the quintessential "50's lady" back in the day. I think she came from money, but that wasn't what made her classy... she just was. Anyway, at this particular time I was dealing with a bout of depression (as I have from time to time over the course of my life) and apparently it SHOWED. After we had closed for the day, Ms. Betty approached me to see why I wasn't my usual self and though I can't remember our conversation verbatim, I think she got the gist of what what going on. I will never forget what she said next though: "Well dear, why don't you just go and put you a little lipstick on?!" Seriously, Ms. Betty? LIPSTICK?!!
Sure, because God knows a little Maybelline is just what the doctor ordered. Go ahead and give Ms. Betty a Nobel Prize, y'all.... she's just discovered a cure for depression! I wasn't sure there was enough lipstick in the world to make me feel better. Hmphh. LIPSTICK. Don't get me wrong, I was kind and respectful. She had no idea how absurd I thought her comment was. I've thought about that conversation many times over the years and I almost always laugh out loud when I do.
Years later, I started selling Mary Kay and one of the things I learned was that even in a terrible economy... even during the Depression... women will (and DID) spend money on cosmetics. Lipsticks and the like are a small investment that yield a tremendous result: looking better on some level makes us feel better. Perhaps Ms. Betty knew this all along.
I'm not trivializing depression. Depression is a disease that my family and I are all to familiar with and I know without a shadow of doubt that make-up cures NOTHING, except for maybe ugliness, but you know what I mean. Last night, however, I was reminded of Ms. Betty and her little antidote when Jamie Ruth wanted me to paint her fingernails. I usually don't keep my fingernails painted because I'm too hard on my hands: cleaning without gloves, crafting something, painting, etc. I admire other people who keep their nails well manicured, but it never seems practical enough for me to do it. But last night JR just insisted that we paint our nails the same color and have a "gowns only, red fingernails" club (seriously... I couldn't make this stuff up). So I relented thinking first thing this morning I would get the fingernail polish remover out and get back to my bare nails ASAP. Only I haven't....
It sounds crazy, but every time I look down and my flaming red nails, it makes me smile a little. I like the way they look even though I know they probably won't last through the day without getting a chip or a ding. But who cares, right? I feel a little fancy having my nails painted, and though it may seem impractical for my lifestyle, so what?! Nothing last forever, not even the impromptu manicure with your six year old. What's the worst that could happen? Having to repaint them at the second meeting of the "gowns only, red fingernails" club?
I like my nails so much that I'm thinking about getting my toes done. And after that, who knows? I might just take a cue from Ms. Betty and get the lipstick out. I'm not insinuating these little steps to better personal grooming are going to cure all that ails us emotionally, but if you're like me, it just might perk you up and bring a little smile to your day. And who could argue with that?
Anyhoo, I feel I must apologize to Ms. Betty. I know in her own way, she was trying to be helpful and if I hadn't been so obstinate, I might have seen that. I might have also realized earlier that sometimes little things can make a big difference in how we feel about ourselves. She's in heaven now. But I'm sure she's looking down on me and smiling... and you can bet she's wearing her lipstick.
I was working as a waitress in a nice restaurant that was owned by a good friend of mine. Her mother was a frequent patron and you could just tell she had been the quintessential "50's lady" back in the day. I think she came from money, but that wasn't what made her classy... she just was. Anyway, at this particular time I was dealing with a bout of depression (as I have from time to time over the course of my life) and apparently it SHOWED. After we had closed for the day, Ms. Betty approached me to see why I wasn't my usual self and though I can't remember our conversation verbatim, I think she got the gist of what what going on. I will never forget what she said next though: "Well dear, why don't you just go and put you a little lipstick on?!" Seriously, Ms. Betty? LIPSTICK?!!
Sure, because God knows a little Maybelline is just what the doctor ordered. Go ahead and give Ms. Betty a Nobel Prize, y'all.... she's just discovered a cure for depression! I wasn't sure there was enough lipstick in the world to make me feel better. Hmphh. LIPSTICK. Don't get me wrong, I was kind and respectful. She had no idea how absurd I thought her comment was. I've thought about that conversation many times over the years and I almost always laugh out loud when I do.
Years later, I started selling Mary Kay and one of the things I learned was that even in a terrible economy... even during the Depression... women will (and DID) spend money on cosmetics. Lipsticks and the like are a small investment that yield a tremendous result: looking better on some level makes us feel better. Perhaps Ms. Betty knew this all along.
I'm not trivializing depression. Depression is a disease that my family and I are all to familiar with and I know without a shadow of doubt that make-up cures NOTHING, except for maybe ugliness, but you know what I mean. Last night, however, I was reminded of Ms. Betty and her little antidote when Jamie Ruth wanted me to paint her fingernails. I usually don't keep my fingernails painted because I'm too hard on my hands: cleaning without gloves, crafting something, painting, etc. I admire other people who keep their nails well manicured, but it never seems practical enough for me to do it. But last night JR just insisted that we paint our nails the same color and have a "gowns only, red fingernails" club (seriously... I couldn't make this stuff up). So I relented thinking first thing this morning I would get the fingernail polish remover out and get back to my bare nails ASAP. Only I haven't....
It sounds crazy, but every time I look down and my flaming red nails, it makes me smile a little. I like the way they look even though I know they probably won't last through the day without getting a chip or a ding. But who cares, right? I feel a little fancy having my nails painted, and though it may seem impractical for my lifestyle, so what?! Nothing last forever, not even the impromptu manicure with your six year old. What's the worst that could happen? Having to repaint them at the second meeting of the "gowns only, red fingernails" club?
I like my nails so much that I'm thinking about getting my toes done. And after that, who knows? I might just take a cue from Ms. Betty and get the lipstick out. I'm not insinuating these little steps to better personal grooming are going to cure all that ails us emotionally, but if you're like me, it just might perk you up and bring a little smile to your day. And who could argue with that?
Anyhoo, I feel I must apologize to Ms. Betty. I know in her own way, she was trying to be helpful and if I hadn't been so obstinate, I might have seen that. I might have also realized earlier that sometimes little things can make a big difference in how we feel about ourselves. She's in heaven now. But I'm sure she's looking down on me and smiling... and you can bet she's wearing her lipstick.
Monday, June 28, 2010
"How are you?"
How do you answer a question like that? I think most people ask this question just to be polite. For whatever reason, society has coined the phrase to represent a greeting instead of an actual question for the concern of another. It's silly, if you think about it. Most times you could care LESS how the person you are talking to actually is. Heaven forbid they try to even TELL you about it. But what's even sillier is how we knowingly answer the question we know no one wants the answer to: "Fine!" And then perhaps we'll continue with our little exchange with a half-hearted, "And you?"
I believe we have lost a considerable amount of our social graces and I think that's a shame. Perhaps it's one of those things that we no longer have time for in this fast paced world we live in. I remember a time when neighbors visited with each other, and it was not the least bit inconvenient. It was welcomed. People would just "drop in" or "drop by" and I bet when they were asked, "How are you?" the someone doing the asking really wanted to know.
Nobody wants a Gloomy Gus around, that's a given. And we ALL have troubles, right? That's the main reason I fake it (like you do too) and quickly quip "fine" or "great." Sometimes I steal a favorite line from my step-dad and reply that "I'm hanging in like an old rusty fish hook." I suppose that answer is a little more acurate, though laden with humor to help muddle through the awkward exchange of pleasantries without commiting to an all-out conversation.
The bible tells us , however, that we should bear one another's burdens (Galatians 6:2) thus fulfilling the law of Christ. As the body of Christ we are not supposed to operate individually. We need each other for guidance, counsel, encouragement, and at times reproof. Do you have that friend or family member to "bounce off" of? When is the last time you were that person for THEM? When is the last time you really listened to what your husband or your children were saying? Are you keeping yourself to the confines of your home, and ultimately your mind, not reaching out to ask for the help that you need?
An aquaintance asked me yesterday how I was. I was going to brush her question off with my usual answer until she said I looked like I needed to talk and perhaps "unload" a bit. She told me to call her anytime, then told me she loved me. This wasn't my best friend, or my mom... it was someone who I don't even consider a close friend. But she took the time to see something I didn't even know I was projecting and really wanted to know about it. And that floored me. Just another example that God will use whatever and whomever necessary to reach us. He sees us in our pain and suffering and brings people in our midst to help us carry the load. Not everyone that asks you how you are is going to want to do that. But the next time you ask someone how THEY are, maybe you will think of this and be a burden bearer for them. I know I will.
I believe we have lost a considerable amount of our social graces and I think that's a shame. Perhaps it's one of those things that we no longer have time for in this fast paced world we live in. I remember a time when neighbors visited with each other, and it was not the least bit inconvenient. It was welcomed. People would just "drop in" or "drop by" and I bet when they were asked, "How are you?" the someone doing the asking really wanted to know.
Nobody wants a Gloomy Gus around, that's a given. And we ALL have troubles, right? That's the main reason I fake it (like you do too) and quickly quip "fine" or "great." Sometimes I steal a favorite line from my step-dad and reply that "I'm hanging in like an old rusty fish hook." I suppose that answer is a little more acurate, though laden with humor to help muddle through the awkward exchange of pleasantries without commiting to an all-out conversation.
The bible tells us , however, that we should bear one another's burdens (Galatians 6:2) thus fulfilling the law of Christ. As the body of Christ we are not supposed to operate individually. We need each other for guidance, counsel, encouragement, and at times reproof. Do you have that friend or family member to "bounce off" of? When is the last time you were that person for THEM? When is the last time you really listened to what your husband or your children were saying? Are you keeping yourself to the confines of your home, and ultimately your mind, not reaching out to ask for the help that you need?
An aquaintance asked me yesterday how I was. I was going to brush her question off with my usual answer until she said I looked like I needed to talk and perhaps "unload" a bit. She told me to call her anytime, then told me she loved me. This wasn't my best friend, or my mom... it was someone who I don't even consider a close friend. But she took the time to see something I didn't even know I was projecting and really wanted to know about it. And that floored me. Just another example that God will use whatever and whomever necessary to reach us. He sees us in our pain and suffering and brings people in our midst to help us carry the load. Not everyone that asks you how you are is going to want to do that. But the next time you ask someone how THEY are, maybe you will think of this and be a burden bearer for them. I know I will.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Why Six Year Olds Shouldn't Watch Sponge Bob
Let me set the mood:
I walk into the living room last night and find Jamie Ruth on the couch watching Sponge Bob Squarepants. I DETEST that show. It's stupid, irreverent, and downright annoying. Taking a deep breath, I conjure up my best "firm-yet-compassionate" parental tone and begin to voice my displeasure:
Me: "I don't LIKE Sponge Bob, Jamie."
JR: "Why? Because it's suck-ish?"
Me: "Did you just say 'suck-ish?'"
JR: "Yeah."
Me: "Where did you hear that word?!"
JR: "Sponge Bob."
By this time, Chuck had come in on the last of our conversation and gave me a look that said, "Was that matter-of-fact enough for you?!" while trying his best to keep a straight face. I knew the next 30 seconds were going to be crucial in making or breaking the point I was trying to hit home. With as much composure as I could muster, I pressed on:
Me: "And that's EXACTLY why I don't like it, Jamie Ruth."
Chuck: "Yeah, you probably shouldn't say that anymore."
Me: "It's not very nice."
JR: "Do you also not like it because it says 'stupid,' selfish,' and 'idiot'?"
Me: "Right. Those aren't nice things to say either. So, we're not going to say things like that, okay?"
JR: "Okay."
Chuck and I make it to the kitchen, put our hands over our mouths and try not to pee in our pants. Not necessarily a parenting moment for the record books. Especially since we didn't even make her turn the channel... right away. :) There are no books out there that prepare you for times like this. My hope is that she'll make it to tween-dom without irreparable damage... from Sponge Bob or the one million other innocence stealers out there in cheeky television land. "Suck-ish." Thanks, Sponge Bob...
I walk into the living room last night and find Jamie Ruth on the couch watching Sponge Bob Squarepants. I DETEST that show. It's stupid, irreverent, and downright annoying. Taking a deep breath, I conjure up my best "firm-yet-compassionate" parental tone and begin to voice my displeasure:
Me: "I don't LIKE Sponge Bob, Jamie."
JR: "Why? Because it's suck-ish?"
Me: "Did you just say 'suck-ish?'"
JR: "Yeah."
Me: "Where did you hear that word?!"
JR: "Sponge Bob."
By this time, Chuck had come in on the last of our conversation and gave me a look that said, "Was that matter-of-fact enough for you?!" while trying his best to keep a straight face. I knew the next 30 seconds were going to be crucial in making or breaking the point I was trying to hit home. With as much composure as I could muster, I pressed on:
Me: "And that's EXACTLY why I don't like it, Jamie Ruth."
Chuck: "Yeah, you probably shouldn't say that anymore."
Me: "It's not very nice."
JR: "Do you also not like it because it says 'stupid,' selfish,' and 'idiot'?"
Me: "Right. Those aren't nice things to say either. So, we're not going to say things like that, okay?"
JR: "Okay."
Chuck and I make it to the kitchen, put our hands over our mouths and try not to pee in our pants. Not necessarily a parenting moment for the record books. Especially since we didn't even make her turn the channel... right away. :) There are no books out there that prepare you for times like this. My hope is that she'll make it to tween-dom without irreparable damage... from Sponge Bob or the one million other innocence stealers out there in cheeky television land. "Suck-ish." Thanks, Sponge Bob...
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Passing the Torch
There is a question that I ask my mother all the time: "Who are YOU and what have you done with my mother?!" This question usually follows some sort of behavior that was SO uncharacteristic of her in my youth (or the mother that I REMEMBER from my youth, anyway. LOL!). I swear, the woman had grandchildren, and now I don't even know who she IS anymore! ;) A kinder, gentler version of my dear mother has apparently body-snatched the whip-cracking, no-nonsense, rule enforcing, corporal punisher of yesteryear and left us with someone who reminds me more of, well, MY grandmother. It's funny how the birth of a grandchild does that to a person. :)
It's also funny how a fairly liberal, free-spirited co-ed, who has more than once put a bindi on her forehead, chanted in foreign tongues, contemplated the Wiccan lifestyle (I could go on, but I think you get the point) has now turned into... Yep. You guessed it: MY MOTHER. If anyone from my twenties were to meet me on the street right now, I'm SURE they would ask me the same question I ask my mom. And like my mom, I would be a little embarrassed as they checked off the characteristics that (THANKFULLY) no longer resemble the person I am today.
I guess the old saying is true: Having kids really does change things. That and the fact that I married a Republican. LOL! What that polo shirt wearing, pick-up truck driving, golf loving, SEC grad saw in this hippie wanna-be.... I may never know. Change is good, though. He now wears Birkenstocks and I vote Conservative, and as far as I know, Hell hasn't begun to freeze over just yet. :)
But seriously, I think that Americans are too busy trying to hang on to any semblance of their youth. Unlike the Native Americans who honor their elders, our culture idolizes the young. I'm coming to realize that beauty is not everything. Everyone is beautiful when they're 18. STUPID, but beautiful. Cocky, but beautiful. RECKLESS, but beautiful. Shortsighted, indulgent, narcissistic, immature.... but beautiful. As a person who always looked younger than I was, I couldn't WAIT to turn 30. I couldn't WAIT to be taken seriously. And as forty approaches... it's looking better and better all the time.
When I'm a grandma like my mom, I'll probably look back on my parenting skills and shudder... much the same way I do when I think about the brief period I didn't shave my legs or my underarms. And I'll probably laugh like I did right now. So I'm passing my torch to all the youngsters out there trying to find their way. I've got beds to make and dinner to prepare, and from looking at my mom and grandmother... some pretty big shoes to fill. :) I'll be happy to take their torch, and as much as I would like to set my past afire with it, I know it's made me who I am today. Exactly HOW is still unclear, unless magic was involved. :) And knowing my past, that's not entirely impossible.... (insert evil laugh here!)
It's also funny how a fairly liberal, free-spirited co-ed, who has more than once put a bindi on her forehead, chanted in foreign tongues, contemplated the Wiccan lifestyle (I could go on, but I think you get the point) has now turned into... Yep. You guessed it: MY MOTHER. If anyone from my twenties were to meet me on the street right now, I'm SURE they would ask me the same question I ask my mom. And like my mom, I would be a little embarrassed as they checked off the characteristics that (THANKFULLY) no longer resemble the person I am today.
I guess the old saying is true: Having kids really does change things. That and the fact that I married a Republican. LOL! What that polo shirt wearing, pick-up truck driving, golf loving, SEC grad saw in this hippie wanna-be.... I may never know. Change is good, though. He now wears Birkenstocks and I vote Conservative, and as far as I know, Hell hasn't begun to freeze over just yet. :)
But seriously, I think that Americans are too busy trying to hang on to any semblance of their youth. Unlike the Native Americans who honor their elders, our culture idolizes the young. I'm coming to realize that beauty is not everything. Everyone is beautiful when they're 18. STUPID, but beautiful. Cocky, but beautiful. RECKLESS, but beautiful. Shortsighted, indulgent, narcissistic, immature.... but beautiful. As a person who always looked younger than I was, I couldn't WAIT to turn 30. I couldn't WAIT to be taken seriously. And as forty approaches... it's looking better and better all the time.
When I'm a grandma like my mom, I'll probably look back on my parenting skills and shudder... much the same way I do when I think about the brief period I didn't shave my legs or my underarms. And I'll probably laugh like I did right now. So I'm passing my torch to all the youngsters out there trying to find their way. I've got beds to make and dinner to prepare, and from looking at my mom and grandmother... some pretty big shoes to fill. :) I'll be happy to take their torch, and as much as I would like to set my past afire with it, I know it's made me who I am today. Exactly HOW is still unclear, unless magic was involved. :) And knowing my past, that's not entirely impossible.... (insert evil laugh here!)
Monday, May 10, 2010
Crazy May
No, it's not a real person.... it describes the time of year that inevitably finds me in a tizzy. Does anybody else out there go absolutley NUTS this time of year? It beats out the Christmas season around here, hands down. And I'm afraid my mental state is starting to show the wear with my physical state following close behind.
There is always an IEP meeting to attend, the end of the year teacher appreciation stuff (projects to be completed as well as parties to plan and buy for), let's add dress rehearsal and recital for dance class, Mother's Day, Anna's birthday, our annual Memorial Day beach trip, and Friday night Miracle League softball games. Aye!
To complicate matters, my grandfather who has lung cancer is not doing well and we are making every attempt to travel to see him as often as we can. The time is near, we've been told, so emotionally we are as whupped as we are physically. Aye-yie-yie!
So I HAVE taken it upon myself to step back from many of the duties that I have committed myself to for sanity's sake. This is UBER hard for me because I like to be a woman of my word (and I'm a control freak! LOL!) but something has to give and I can't be every woman... tho Chaka Kahn told me differently. :) I do hope to pick the blogging back up as it is so very cathartic for me. Please keep my family in your prayers and if you see a wooly-booger whirling around like the Tazmanian Devil, that'll just be me... trying to make it to June the first!!!
There is always an IEP meeting to attend, the end of the year teacher appreciation stuff (projects to be completed as well as parties to plan and buy for), let's add dress rehearsal and recital for dance class, Mother's Day, Anna's birthday, our annual Memorial Day beach trip, and Friday night Miracle League softball games. Aye!
To complicate matters, my grandfather who has lung cancer is not doing well and we are making every attempt to travel to see him as often as we can. The time is near, we've been told, so emotionally we are as whupped as we are physically. Aye-yie-yie!
So I HAVE taken it upon myself to step back from many of the duties that I have committed myself to for sanity's sake. This is UBER hard for me because I like to be a woman of my word (and I'm a control freak! LOL!) but something has to give and I can't be every woman... tho Chaka Kahn told me differently. :) I do hope to pick the blogging back up as it is so very cathartic for me. Please keep my family in your prayers and if you see a wooly-booger whirling around like the Tazmanian Devil, that'll just be me... trying to make it to June the first!!!
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