I Can't Sew, But I Can Hot Glue Like Crazy!

Posting is a bit light tonight because I'm working on Halloween costumes. In honor of that, I'm going to post some from years past, some mine and some my children's. Although in recent years we have reverted to store bought costumes, I have made costumes in the past and I think I am excellent at coming up with solutions or ways to make costumes better.

For instance, last year Bubba wanted ninja boots to go with his costume. Well, I don't think they sell ninja boots at Target, so I bought a pair of black socks a couple of sizes too big, put them on over his sneakers and voila! Ninja boots.

Tomorrow Bubba has to dress as his favorite book character for school. He's dressing as an archaeologist from his favorite Goosebumps book. At dinner the other night when we were talking about his costume, he said "Mommy, what I have I discovered?"

"I'm sorry, I don't understand the question, Bubba."

"If I'm an archaeologist, what will I take to school that I've discovered?"

Ahhhh. Good question. I racked and racked my brains trying to come up with something. And finally I thought of Bubba's King Tut doll. Behold my solution:


Bubba has discovered King Tut's mummy!

Here are some photos of me and Mr. Daddy at Halloween. Years ago. When we were cool. When we had a life.


And a couple of Bubba. I've posted the Elvis ones before, but I'm gonna do it again,


And his train costume from the following year:


And one final question, after telling me for weeks that she wants to be Cinderella, upon finding out that another little girl at school is going to be Cinderella, Punkin has now decided she wants to be Belle. Mr. Daddy suggested that she be Cinderbella, but that didn't go over very well. Should I make her be Cinderella? Or should I go out and try to find a Belle costume? And how much of a sucker would I be if I did?

Do I O-Fend?

Now for the mystery I mentioned. But first a little back story.

Mr. Daddy recently discovered Facebook. I have, thus far, avoided Facebook's siren call. For one thing, I don't need any more timesucks. But Mr. Daddy has had a grand old time looking up long lost and not-so-long lost friends.

One of the not-so-long lost was a couple that we were very good friends with when we lived in Savannah, Jimmy and Sarah*. Jimmy was one of Mr. Daddy's regular customers when he managed the Starbucks and they really hit it off. They weren't from Savannah either and were having some of the same problems that we were having meeting people our age.

And as it turns out, their son was born about three months before Bubba was born, so we had a lot in common. We hung out together all the time, taking turns cooking for each other. They were really, really good friends.

When we moved we kept in touch pretty regularly at first and every time we'd go to Savannah we'd stop by to say hi. But, life gets in the way and we didn't get to Savannah very often and we kind of lost touch. But then in May of 2006, they called to say they were going to be in a nearby city, so we met for lunch and it was like no time had passed. It was the same easy camaraderie we've always had.

So, about a week and a half ago, Mr. Daddy sent a note to Sarah on her Facebook page that we were going to be in Savannah soon and last Sunday? (or Monday, not sure -- whenever the Rays played the Red Sox last), Jimmy called.

It was great to talk to him and he was thrilled that we were going to be in town. When Mr. Daddy suggested that we meet somewhere for lunch on Sunday before we headed home, Jimmy insisted that we come to their house, that they would cook for us. It was going to be great. We could hang out and talk, the kids could play. We were really looking forward to it.

So, on Saturday when we got to Savannah, Mr. Daddy called Jimmy's cell. No answer, so he left a message. No biggie. But no return phone call from Jimmy either.

On Sunday we got up and went to our old church and when church let out, we called Jimmy again. See, we didn't even know where they lived because they'd moved since we last saw them. We called both of their cell phones AND their home phone. Nothing. We headed out to Wilmington Island where they live, thinking that they'd call us while we were in route.

Nothing. We called again. All three phones. Nothing.

So, we headed home. It was really weird and totally not like Jimmy and Sarah and Mr. Daddy and I couldn't decide whether to be worried or offended. So, on Monday he sent Jimmy a text message asking if he was okay, if everything was alright, what was up. He immediately got a text back saying "I don't recognize this number. Who is this?" Mr. Daddy texted back and then nothing. No other response.

And still nothing. We've heard nothing from Jimmy or Sarah. Mr. Daddy checked Jimmy's Facebook page and it said he was in Rio de Janeiro on the 23rd (he travels a lot for work and Jimmy and Sarah are both from South America), so perhaps they're still there? Or maybe they got confused and think that we're coming THIS weekend?

We just don't know what happened. And it's a mystery

*not their real names.

The Thumper Rule

Have you ever known someone who loves to give bad news? I've known a couple, and there's one at Punkin's school right now. Unfortunately, she happens to be Punkin's afternoon teacher. Don't get me wrong, I really like this teacher a lot. She's sweet, funny. And she laughs at my jokes like nobody's business.

But lately it seems that she loves to point out all of Punkin's transgressions to me. It doesn't happen on a daily basis, but at least weekly she'll give me a report of something bad that Punkin has done during the day. Now when Punkin was biting her friends, I definitely wanted to know about that, but she doesn't bite anymore. Lately, Punkin's transgressions are, well, barely transgressions, in my opinion.

When Punkin was biting, I'd make a point to mention it to Punkin in front of her teacher and we'd talk about why it was bad. But Punkin would get really upset when I'd get mad at her, and I hated for that to be the way I greeted her every afternoon. I'd much rather see her grinning from ear to ear and running down the hall yelling "Mommmmmmy!" So, I started waiting to talk to her until after we got in the car, when I really had her attention.

Yet, I still get these reports. Now I know my child is not perfect. Good Lord do I know. But don't you think they could handle these things? Or at least tell me about something great she's done every now and then? I mean, that's what I pay them an arm and a leg for, right?

Here are some pictures from our trip.

This is Bubba and Punkin with our friends, Matt and Erica. Their sweet, sweet baby was already in bed so she's not in the photo:


And here's a family picture in front of the fountain in Lafayette Square:



Tune in tomorrow for a mystery!!

Road Trip! Road Trip! Road Trip!

Off to Savannah. Catch you on the flipside....

In the Weeds

I know a lot of people find that hearing about other people's dreams is boring to the extreme, but I always find them kind of fascinating. I used to be a very vivid dreamer and could often remember my dreams and could usually tie my dream into something that was going on in real life.

Last night I dreamed that I was waiting tables and very quickly I got "in the weeds." For those of you unfamiliar with that term, it means that as a server you are getting very far behind in waiting on your tables and you can't catch up. If, again, you are unfamiliar with this term, I wouldn't wish this condition on my worst enemy. There are few things more frustrating than trying to wait on three or four tables at once and not being able to get caught up. Usually you get in the weeds when too many tables are sat at once, or a customer's request throws off your routine. It can be a harrowing experience, particularly if you get very far behind and your customers start to get pissed off.

In my dream last night I couldn't find the water glasses and I had two tables that were sat at once. One table's food came out before I could even get drinks to their table and they had been seated AFTER the table who's order I hadn't even taken yet. I put in one man's bar order and realized about a half hour later that I had never delivered it to him. I finally woke up, relieved that it wasn't real and prayed that when I went back to sleep that I wouldn't slip right back into the dream.

This morning when I was recounting the dream to Mr. Daddy he reminded me of something he heard Mitch Hedberg say on the XM radio comedy station just yesterday (and if you've never heard of Mitch Hedberg, go check him out on You Tube -- especially the routine about escalators. He's hilarious. He is also, unfortunately, deceased.) Anyway, in this routine Mitch said "You know, I prefer sleeping to dreaming. Dreaming is too much work. One minute I'm sleeping and the next minute I'm building a go-kart with my ex-landlord."

I hear ya, Mitch. I woke up exhausted. Exhausted but thankful that I never have to wait tables again.

Don't Go Too Fast

Some of you might remember that when I turned 15, I got The Bobcat. And while I was initially dismayed at its Pinto-like appearance, I actually got a little excited when I realized that I was going to get to drive it that very day.

There was only one tiny hitch. It had a manual transmission and not only did I not know how to drive a stick, I didn't really know how to drive ANYTHING.

So we headed out to the country, which is where every self-respecting southerner learns to drive. The back roads. On the way, my dad and I stopped to pick up my grandfather, who gamely climbed into the backseat while I climbed behind the wheel.

My dad is, to put it kindly, a control freak. He is a little bit of a yeller. When he gets excited or stressed it's like he can't really help himself. He just automatically switches to yell mode. And maybe I'm that way a little bit too. But honestly, I don't really remember him yelling that day, though I'm sure one of us probably did some yelling.

What I remember most is my grandfather keeping up a running admonishment from the backseat, "Now, don't go too fast. Slow down. Slow down. When you start going too fast, that's when you start to get in trouble." I was going maybe 35 mph. And not smoothly. There was a lot of jerking and stalling as I tried to find the gears. I'm not sure I ever went over 40 mph, but sitting in the back seat with no access to the brakes, real or imaginary, probably made Pa Pa feel very vulnerable and I guess he couldn't help himself.

But I often find his words coming back to me. Slow down. Slow down. When you start going too fast, that's when you get into trouble. Sometimes life goes too fast and we need to slow down. I do, anyway. So that's my goal for the coming holiday season. To slow down. And enjoy it.

Love is in the Air!

Over the weekend, I was simultaneously tagged for a meme and given a blog award by two different people, Colleen over at Wine Please and Calicobebop. They both tagged me for the "I <3 Your Blog" meme/award and I was so pleased. I feel like the content around here has been a little lacking as of late, so the validation was nice. And I <3 you too, ladies! And a nice bonus, the meme gives me something to write about. So, here we go. The rules are there are no rules. No, just kidding, there's always rules.

The rules are to answer the following questions in one word and then pass it on to seven others:

Where is your cell phone? car
Where is your significant other? sofa
Your hair color? brown
Your mother? awesome
Your father? bossy
Your favorite thing? books
Your dream last night? non-existent
Your dream/goal? holding
The room you’re in? bedroom
Your hobby? blogging
Your fear? failure
Where do you want to be in 6 years? home
Where were you last night? sofa
What you’re not? hungry
One of your wish-list items? travel
Where you grew up? Elberton
The last thing you did? stories
What are you wearing? comfies
Your TV? On
Your pet? wandering
Your computer? ancient
Your mood? fretful
Missing someone? no
Your car? Jeep
Something you’re not wearing? shoes
Favorite store? Target
Your summer? hot
Love someone? family
Your favorite color? yellow
When is the last time you laughed? tonight
Last time you cried? hmmm....

And in keeping with the rules (because I am, if nothing else, a rule follower) I hereby tag these blogs that I love: FADKOG, Anglophile Football Fanatic, Diary of a Modern Matriarch, Stay at Home Mom Going Quickly Insane, and At Home With Me. I know I'm supposed to do seven, but I just tagged a bunch of y'all, so I don't want to y'all to dread seeing me on your blogs.

I have to share with you the conversation that made me laugh tonight. We had chicken for supper tonight and inside the leg, next to the bone, was a small blood vessel that bled just a little when the children took a bite. Fortunately, both kids were fascinated and not disgusted as I fully expected.

Bubba made some kind of remark about not eating it and Mr. Daddy said "I'm going to eat it. I love it! Because I'm a chicken vampire! I want to cluck your blood!"

That man is such a goof. But that's why I love him.

There's Less of Me to Love

So, my birthday went off without a hitch. Everybody was well. I take all the credit of course. I used the old reverse psychology trick. Expect everything to go right and it will go to hell in a handbasket. Expect everything to go wrong and everything will be just peachy. And it was. Peachy, that is.

Mr. Daddy gave me a gift certificate to a spa for an hour massage. (Squee!) My stepsister gave me a gift card to Starbucks -- just in time for gingerbread lattes! Yum! And my other stepsister gave me a beautiful Venetian glass necklace and matching earrings. My mom gave me tickets to a Georgia game earlier in the season, but on Saturday cooked me a delicious meal and a completely decadent and weight watcher- busting chocolate cake.

I also received two bloggy awards, which I will acknowledge more fully later today. Thanks so much ladies! Those awards made my day!

Speaking of weight watchers, I twittered this today, but I am only .2 pounds away from my 10% weight loss goal, which was 15 pounds. It's taken me 16 weeks to get the weight off, but I figure the slower it comes off, the more likely it is to stay off. I'm not sure how much more I want to lose -- probably not more than 5 pounds more. I'm pretty happy with where I am now since I was able to get into a pair of size 8 pants on Friday for the first time in AGES!

I'm really proud of myself for sticking with it this time. I'm starting to notice a real shift in my eating habits. For one thing, I'm starting to pay real attention to when I'm full and actually trying to stop eating before I feel stuffed. And I'm doing a much better job at it than I used to. I'm also thinking about what I eat before I put it in my mouth -- is it worth it? Sometimes it is, but sometimes it isn't. I've worked hard to lose this weight and sometimes that snack is just not worth putting the weight back on.

Just Eight Uninterrupted Hours. That's All I Need.

When I sat down to write last night, I couldn't think of a thing to write about.

Then, in the middle of the night, it hit me. When Punkin woke up at 2:30 for the 20th night in a row. Seriously people, it's like having a newborn again. At first it was 3:30 every night, but for some reason she's moved it up an hour.

Sometimes I awaken to frightened cries of "Mommmmmmy!", but occasionally she's just calling my name like it's the middle of the day instead of the middle of the night. When I go into her room I usually just have to pat her back and fix her covers a little and tell her to lie down and got back to sleep. Sometimes we have to find her bear that's made it's way to floor. Occasionally she's crying and says she can't find her pillow, even though it's right where it's supposed to be. Once she said her hand was big, which confused the heck out of Mr. Daddy who happened to be the one who responded that night. I'm thinking that her hand had fallen asleep and so it felt big.

But I am at my wits end. Even though I usually stumble in there and stumble right back to bed, there are nights when it takes me a while to go back to sleep. So, lovely internet friends, I'm turning to you. How do I break this insidious habit? My sanity depends on your quick response.

What'd He Say?

So, everybody in my house has been felled by a mystery virus -- fever, congestion, headache. So far it hasn't reached anybody's stomach, thank God. (by the way, do you know how hard it is to type with one hand while knocking on every wood surface in the vicinity with the other?)

Mr. Daddy has been home two days with it. Bubba came home from school mid-day yesterday with it. And Punkin was hit right when we got home last evening.

Do you know what's happening this weekend? My birthday. And do you know what I foresee? That either (a) everyone will still be sick on Saturday and we will be unable to attend the birthday dinner my mother has planned for me or (b) everyone else will be well but I will have caught the bug by then and we will STILL be unable to attend my birthday dinner.

So. In order to attempt to ignore the slightly nagging pain in the left quadrant of my head and in an effort to try to outsmart Murphy, we're going to talk about something completely frivolous: Mis-heard lyrics.

On the way to work this morning, I heard one of my favorite mis-heard songs, "Der Kommisar" by After the Fire. I've written about this before, but when he was small, my cousin Michael mis-heard "Don't turn around, uh oh. Der Kommisar's in town, uh oh" as "Don't turn around, uh oh. Hold that sausage down, uh oh." Whenever I hear that song I can't help but sing the revised lyrics. And you'd be surprised how often you can slip "hold that sausage down" into conversation.

My husband's family has several mis-heard favorites and oddly several of them are from Police songs. Well, not police songs, but songs by the band Police. I can't tell you one of them without giving away our last name, but one is from "Every Breath You Take." When Sting sings "How my poor heart aches," Mr. Daddy and his brothers heard "I'm a pool hall ace." Yeah.

One of my most notorious mistakes is from the song "Jump" by Van Halen. When David Lee Roth sings "I've got my back against the record machine, I ain't the worst that you've seen," I heard "I've got my back against the wrecking machine, I eat the words that you've seen." I know. I doesn't make any sense and I knew that. But it was only recently that I heard what he's really saying. Mr. Daddy still likes to give me grief on this one. And I'm like really? You hear "pool hall ace" and you're giving me grief about this?

Have you famously (or infamously) mis-heard any lyrics? Share! I promise I won't make fun of you. Much.

2-4-6-8! Who Do I Think is Great?

The other day, Calicobebop tagged me for a meme and since I haven't done a meme in ages, I thought I would do this one. Plus, I'm supposed to talk about how great I am, so what's not to like, right? But seriously, enough about me. What do you think about me?

Just kidding. Sort of. I am supposed to write five positive things about me, which is actually harder than one might think. Not that I couldn't think of five things, but that I have a hard time admitting that I think these things are great about myself. I have a theory about women and their ability to brag on themselves, but that's another post for another day.

So let's get down to business. Five things I think are great about me.

1. I can do anything I set my mind to. I think it comes from being raised by a single mom, who often had to do for herself. And while I have gotten into the habit of letting my husband do things for me, if there's something I want to do, I can do it.

2. I have great dimples. In my cheeks. The uppers (cheeks, that is), as Precarious Tomato likes to say. When I was only an hour old my mom's co-workers were exclaiming over my dimples. And I'm just being honest when I say that these dimples have come in handy in my life. When I was pregnant I hoped that my children would get them and fortunately they did.

3. I am an excellent reader of moods and faces and body language in general. I can usually tell when something's wrong with someone around me, even if I don't really know that person very well. I think it's because I'm pretty attentive to details. I've often thought I would make an excellent Miss Marple-type detective because I notice details and I think I would know if someone was guilty or not.

4. I'm an excellent out loud reader, especially of children's books. I do voices. I make things scary when they should be scary. I make appropriate sound effects. I pause in the right spots. I would make an excellent children's librarian.

5. I'm a good conversationalist. I'm pretty well read and I know a little bit about a lot of stuff, which means that I can make inane conversation with the best of them.

And there you have it. I've gotten out of the habit of tagging people for memes, but I'm going to tag a couple of people because I think we could all brag on ourselves more often. Plus, I'd like to get to know more about you guys.

So, I tag Katie from Can't Get There From Here, Betsy at The Musings of a Wandering Mind, Colleen over at Wine Please, Nicole at Impostor Mom, and el-e-e over at Hello, Self. Tag, ladies. You're it!

MIA

I've been sort of missing in action for the past couple of days, but it's been another hectic week and weekend. Thursday night we finally went to the fair, which, good grief, when did the fair get so expensive?? Wrist bands to ride all the rides are $18 a piece. And while that seems ridiculously expensive, it's still the best option since tickets were $1 a piece and the ferris wheel alone was 4 tickets. Here are a few photos, just because:


I promise that they were both having a good time, even though they look pretty serious in these photos. There was a fair amount of arguing over who got to choose the next ride, plus the want, want, want of every trinket and gew gaw on the fairway, but still we had a good time. I managed to capture this shot of the evening sky and it turned out much better than I thought it would.


Yesterday was the family reunion that I'm now in charge of. This is my third year and I have to say it wast he best one yet. In recent years the attendance had fallen off, particularly among my age group, but this year we were the largest group and I was thrilled. I saw some cousins that I hadn't seen in several years and they all brought their children. It took them a little while to warm up, but it wasn't too long before they were all playing together. THAT's the reason I took over the reunion, to ensure that my children know what it means to be part of a bigger family.

And today I'm home with Punkin. Her school is closed today for a teacher work day, so we're just going to hang out. Just us girls.

What is Happiness?

Well, I completely missed marking my 300th post. Oh well. Some blogger I am.

Yesterday AndreAnna over at Diary of a Modern Matriarch posed a fairly serious question. Are you happy with how your life has turned out? And, that got me thinking.

I am happy. Am I where I thought I would end up? In some ways yes and in some ways no.

I always wanted to be a mother and now I have two wonderful children. My husband is the kind of guy I was always looking for -- a good guy. And I mean that in every sense of the word.

We are not where I thought we would be financially. We're not even where we were four years ago. Our financial road has had a lot of potholes. I still struggle with wanting "stuff." But then there are times when the four of us are together, laughing over something silly, or simply spending time together when I think "This is enough. This is all I need."

I finally feel as though I'm in a job that was meant for me. If I could have crafted a job in my mind, the job that I have would come pretty darn close. Of course it's frustrating at times, but as my mom has always reminded me "Every job has some shit in it." My job allows me to use all the parts of my brain. It allows me to be creative and analytical. My mind is constantly stimulated and I'm always learning. I get to be part of some really cool new advances in the world of academic libraries. I get to meet some really awesome people.

Of course there are times when I look back and wonder how my life would have turned out if I'd made different decisions. I don't sit around and wring my hands about these decisions, though. One I look back at frequently is my decision as to which college to attend. During my senior year I was hell bent on attending a women's college and had been accepted to two. At the last moment I decided to attend UGA and I often wonder where I would have ended up if I hadn't. I certainly wouldn't have met that asshole boyfriend my freshman year. The one that I allowed to derail me for about a year.

But I did. And here I am. And though my life hasn't turned out like I thought it would necessarily, it is a good life. And yes, I am happy.

It's the Little Things

Sorry for the dearth of posts here lately. Last week was so crazy and then I had to go out of town on Sunday for work. I stayed up way too late on Sunday night, so when I got home on Monday evening I could barely keep my eyes open past 8:00.

And last night I was engrossed in a book that I wanted to finish. Not to mention the fact that I couldn't think of a thing to write about.

The weekend, overall, was a little stressful. On Saturday morning my car wouldn't start and still wouldn't crank after we tried to jump it off. Since we had just replaced the starter in Mr. Daddy's car, my mind immediately jumped to the worst case scenario. Fortunately, it turned out to be just my battery. But money has been a little tight lately so we've both been on edge a little bit. Sniping a little at each other.

But then last night we had breakfast for supper. Sausage, eggs, and pancakes. I was getting the kids' milk and when I came to the table Mr. Daddy had put my pancakes on a separate plate, just like I like it (I don't like for syrup to get on my sausage and eggs). He thinks it's kind of ridiculous, but he did it for me anyway. Because he knows that's the way I am.

And it's those little things, those little gestures, that help ease the tension. That remind me to not worry so much about every thing. That remind me how good I have it.

Who Do You Know?

I have to admit, I'm a little in awe of celebrities. Maybe that's not the best word, but I love seeing celebrities and I love hearing about other people's run-ins with them.

Not that I've seen that many, really. When I used to travel to New York, my boss would see someone amazing EVERY TIME. He saw Michael Jackson when Michael was protesting that time outside of the Sony Building. He saw Reese Witherspoon when she was in NY to promote Legally Blonde I and II.

Another co-worker met Julia Roberts backstage at the David Letterman Show.

The only celebrities I ever saw in NY was Jocelyn Wildenstein (FUH-REAK! don'tclickthelink, don'tclickthelink,don'tclickthelink) and Meredith Baxter Birney. Um, yeah. Oh yeah, and I met Rick and Kathy Hilton, Paris and Nicky Hilton's parents, right before Paris and Nicky started being EVERYWHERE.

As for celebrities that I've actually met, I've met Kenny Rogers and Lionel Richie. They both came to eat at my dad's restaurant when Lionel was helping Kenny produce one of his albums.

And I'm not sure you can count this as "meeting," but once, when we lived in Hilton Head, SC, I was working at Walden Books at the mall and noticed a very tall, stunningly gorgeous woman. I was deep in thought, trying to figure out who she was when I rounded one of the stacks and bumped smack into John Cougar Mellencamp. The blonde was his wife, model Elaine Irwin. For the record, JCM is shorter than I am (I'm 5'4") and his head is, um, hmmm...how shall I put this? Large?

So that's about it for me. What about you? Who have you met? Who do you know?

Tune in Tokyo

My brain is feeling somewhat less fried tonight, though today was no less busy. Once I turn over the newsletter tomorrow that will be a huge weight off my shoulders, but I probably won't be in back in form until Monday night when I return from our board meeting.

On my way home today I heard one of my favorite songs. I had to blast the radio, with the windows down since it was such a gorgeous day. Since my brain is not quite up to snuff, I thought I would share some of my favorite windows-down, stereo-blasting songs. I'm going to link to clips if possible and if you feel like rocking out, or if perhaps you just want to see what it's like to live inside my head for a few minutes (not nearly as exciting as one might think), then click.

"Right By Your Side" -- the Eurythmics

"Electric Avenue" -- Eddie Grant

"Funky Town" -- Lipps Inc.

"The Tide is High" -- Blondie

"Love is a Stranger" -- Eurythmics

"Close to Me" -- The Cure

"Mars Loves Venus" -- The Brunettes (if you don't know this one, you MUST listen. It's one of my all-time faves!)

"Come On Eileen" -- Dexy's Midnight Runners

That's just a small glimpse. As you can see, most of them date from the 80s. I suppose I'm longing for my glory days. If you can call high school my glory days.

What are some of your crank-it songs?