What a Difference a Day Makes

Yesterday did not start off well. I had a bad mood hangover that was exacerbated by Bubba's refusal to help walk Punkin into school because he would be "embarrassed." So, instead I made him walk in with his MOTHER (oh my GOD!) and I even made him hold my hand for a few feet. That'll learn him!

But last night when I picked them up, I was resolved to make it a wonderful evening. I asked them if they had a good day and Bubba said "Yeah, except for this morning." I apologized for my irritation and vowed to do better.

Punkin had a great day. In her class they have a Green/Yellow/Red behavior system, but they also can move UP on the ladder to blue and purple and she had moved up to blue. She didn't know what she had done to get moved up, but I guess it really doesn't matter.

When we got home I asked if she wanted to help me make dinner. I thought this would be a great way for us to spend some time together, doing something fun. Well, fun-ish. She poured water for the rice, she used the can opener to open the beans and dumped them into the pot. We made corn muffins from a box (Shhhh! Don't tell my grandmother) and she cracked the egg and poured the milk. She stirred them and then I held the bowl while she spooned the batter into the muffin pan.

The whole dinner itself was delightful. Everyone ate their food with no complaints (somebody mark this date on a calendar!), nobody was fussed at for squirming or standing up. Everybody used their utensils properly. Over ice cream dessert we divided into Team Vanilla (me and Bubba) and Team Mint Chocolate Fudge chunk (Mr. Daddy and Punkin). The look of betrayal on Punkin's face when she realized that Mr. Daddy was in fact eating vanilla was priceless and sent us all into fits of giggles.

All in all, it was delightful. And stress free. And there was no yelling.

And boy did I need that.

Mosquito Bit and Tarred

Well, we've just returned from our most recent camping escapades. As usual, there were good times and there were bad times. I'll be back soon to fill you in on all the details.

Just one question in the meantime: why are mosquitoes so attracted to ankles? It really seems a barren place, but dang if they don't zero in there every time.

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year, y'all! Last night the family and I capped off the year (at 7:30 p.m. no less) with a sparkling grape juice toast that highlighted our hopes for the new year.

Quick aside -- Dear Welch's, WHY did you do away with the champagne-like cork on your sparkling grape juice? That was the fun of the whole thing -- getting to pop the cork! Unscrewing a top is just NOT as celebratory. Get on it!

Anyway, when I made my toast, I said that I had a feeling that 2011 was going to be a banner year for this family. We've got lots of things in the works, and I can't wait to share with y'all everything that's coming up.

This feeling, combined with the word I've chosen to signify the new year, renewal, have me feeling very positive. What do think is in the works for you in 2011?

Nothing Good Comes Easy.

So, I promised a post about our recent camping trip. It's become sort of an annual event -- our winter camping extravaganza. Winter camping is always a dicey enterprise and we don't even DO hardcore camping. I mean, we sleep in a camper. A pop-up, but still, a camper. Some of you might remember this camping trip -- one of the most miserable in my life, but they've generally gotten better and I actually look forward to them now.

It doesn't look like I wrote about last year's adventures, but we went up to Unicoi State Park and had a great time. We froze our butts off the first night, but the second night we cranked up both heaters and actually slept pretty warmly.

This year we went to Enota campground and our pop up had been upgraded from a soft-side pop up with few amenities to a hard-side pop up with a built in heater! So we fully anticipated an easy set up and sleeping warmly.

Getting a campsite set up is always frought with stress, at least for our family. Mr. Daddy is, um, shall we say, easily stressed, and if things don't go just right (and they seldom do!), voices might be raised. A teeny bit. Getting a camp site set up after dark is a completely different animal. There are a lot more opportunities for things to go awry.

When we pulled into the campsite it was pitch dark -- problem number one. Problem number two? It was about 20 degrees outside. Mr. Daddy pulled the camper past the site, getting ready to back the camper into the space. The space for the camper was very narrow and I was dispatched to the back to help guide Mr. Daddy into the spot. All of a sudden, a car pulls up behind us, shining its lights into our face. We waved it around, but it just stayed there. Lights on. In our faces. Mr. Daddy sat there. I waved at the car again and I'm pretty sure my aggravation could be read in my wave. Dude, GO AROUND. The car didn't move. More aggressive waving. Finally, finally, it went around.

An older gentleman (henceforth known as Helpful Older Gentleman, or HOG) got out and walked over. "I'm sorry," he said. "I was trying to shine my headlights on the spot so that you could see a little better," he said kindly. Oops.

We finally got the camper into the spot, with the "help" of HOG who kept yelling things like "get on top of it" -- whatever that means. Mr. Daddy then pulled out the power cord, plugged it into the power pole, and hit the switch to raise the electric pop up.

Nothing.

He hit the switch again. Nothing except a slight groan as the motor tried to work. Awesome. He flipped the breakers on the power box and tried the switch again. Still nothing. HOG, who was still hanging "helpfully" around, offered to pull his car over and hook it up to the camper battery. Once we hooked it up, the pop up, well, popped up. HOG 2 pts, Us, 0.

The kids and I hurried inside and turned on the heater, which began blowing warm air immediately. Ah, heaven. I also set up the griddle to start cooking some hot dogs since it was way past suppertime for all of us. I grabbed the griddle and plugged into the nearest outlet and turned it on. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Now that just didn't make any sense. The lights were on, the heat was on. Why wasn't the outlet working?

"Babe!" I hollered out the door, "The griddle's not working. And I think the heater's blowing cold air now." And wait, were the lights getting dimmer, too?

Mr. Daddy came in and fiddled with the switch on the griddle. He unplugged it and plugged it back in. "Are you sure you've got it plugged in all the way?" he asked. I just stared at him in disdain, not bothering to dignify that question with answer.

"Look," I said. "The lights are getting dimmer." He reached up and flipped them off and then back on, though they were now on in name only. We looked at each other in the near (freezing) darkness. "See!" I said.

"Oh, it's just the ballasts on the lights," he said. "They have to warm back up." "I don't think we're getting any power from the power pole," I said helpfully. At least in my mind it was said helpfully.

"I'm hungry," whined both kids at once.

Mr. Daddy went back outside and began flipping breakers on the power pole, all the while it was getting darker and colder inside the camper.

In and out, flipping switches, turning the heater on an off. Turning the lights on and off. All of us mystified as to why nothing seemed to be working. By this time, Mr. Daddy and I are both in a state. I'm frustrated, hungry and cold. So is he. In nearly fourteen years of marriage you'd think I'd have learned when to keep my mouth shut, but somehow that just hasn't sunk in yet.

In one of Mr. Daddy's forays into the camper to see if anything was working, I "helpfully" pointed out, yet again, that the heater wasn't working.

That was the straw the broke the proverbial camel's back. "I hope y'all are having fun," he said loudly as he walked back outside, "because this is the LAST TIME we are ever going camping!"

It was quiet for a moment. The Punkin said, in a quiet voice, "Really?"

"No," Bubba said reassuringly. "Sometimes people say things when they're mad that they don't really mean."

Mr. Daddy walked back in. "I don't know what the problem is."

"Let's just go to a hotel for the night," I said. "We can't stay here. It's too cold. We'll get it figured out in the morning." At the mention of hotel, both kids went berserk as staying in a hotel is obviously the coolest thing we could do.

"Let me try one more thing," Mr. Daddy said and he headed back out into the cold, though the inside temp and the outside temp had once again reached equilibrium. As he walked out, I might have said, one more time, "I don't think we're getting any power from the power pole."

Mr. Daddy must have agreed with me because he took the extension cord and ran it across the road to the empty campsite across from us. I wasn't aware of what he was doing, as I was watching my kids eat a healthy supper of potato chips and capri suns in the near darkness in the camper. All of a sudden -- LIGHTS! The kids and I actually cheered.

Mr. Daddy came back in and said "Well, you were right." WHA? Somebody please note this date on a calendar. It turns out we weren't getting any power from the power pole. We ended up having to call the campground's after hours number because by this time it was nearly 9:00. A very nice man came to help us and he and Mr. Daddy poked around out in the dark, switching breakers and futzing around.

Finally, the guy located the problem. The power pole? The one that stood about three feet tall with the large breaker box nailed to the side? That was not the power pole we were supposed to use. No, the correct one, the one that worked, was only about 8 inches high and was literally located at ground level next to the water pump. In the dark it was nearly impossible to find and we being somewhat familiar with the effects of mixing water and electricity, I don't think any of us thought to look for the power panel next to the water pump.

Finally, the lights came on for good. And the heat. At that point I began to laugh. Mr. Daddy looked at me like I'd lost my mind and said "It's not funny!" Oh, but it was. I laughed and laughed and eventually he joined in. Hot dogs were cooked and consumed. A beer or two was had. As we snuggled down under the covers and prepared to go to sleep, Punkin piped up, "Will we ever go camping again, Daddy?"

"Yes," he admitted grudgingly, "but you can bet we're getting this night for free!"

Perhaps I Exaggerated

To be perfectly honest, the trip wasn't all bad.The

first two days were spent with Mr. Daddy's cousin and his wife, who is 8 months pregnant, and her parents at the parent's lake house. We fished, we rode the Sea Doo, we rode in the boat, we ate good food. I tried to ski. For the first time since I was in sixth grade. That went about as well as you would expect. For the record, I did manage to get up once, but immediately fell down. All in all, I tried six times to get up but was never successful. And man, I was sore for the next three days. Why hello, pectoral muscles! But it was truly a lot of fun.

The above picture is Bubba and Mr. Daddy's cousin, Jason. The picture below is one Mr. Daddy took of Punkin as she was chillin' in the swing on the dock. It's one of my favorite pictures of her, ever.

We saw some wildlife at the campground, so that was fun. Animals encountered included:

a black snake
a deer
a toad

The black snake was lying directly in front of the door to the ladies bathroom. My brain went through this convoluted thought process in a matter of about five seconds "Is that real? No, soembody's just playing a joke by putting a fake snake in front of the ladies room. But we are in the middle of the woods, so it could be real. But it's so still, it must be fake."

And then it moved and we were sure it was real. Punkin screamed like, well, like a little girl and ran away. I'm not personally afraid of snakes and it was already retreating, so I waited until it went around the corner and then we went on our merry way into the bathroom. The bathroom doors had this mechanism on them that kept them open for a few seconds after you let go of them, I'm assuming to keep them from slamming. I couldn't help but think, though, that if that snake had timed it just right, she (he?) could have ended up in the bathroom. I didn't mind encountering it on the pathway, but I'm not sure how I would have felt about finding it in one of the stalls, or having it join me in the shower. That's a lie. I know exactly how I would have felt -- terrified!

I also got to visit with a good friend of mine while we were in the area. My friend, I'll call her Sara, had been my maid of honor 13 years ago. Time and distance had caused us to drift apart, but Facebook, that wonderful re-uniter, brought us back together. We picked up right where we left off -- only with the addition of two kids apiece. Our kids got along famously, picking right up and playing together with no hesitation as only children can.

And we did finally get to go to that fair I mentioned in yesterday's post. Though we dropped a boatload of cash in just the two hours we were there, the kids had a blast. And I got spit on by a llama in the petting zoo. Fortunately he was aiming low and he mostly got the bottom of my dress, but he was cut off from any more kibble. Dude, everybody knows you don't spit on the hand that feeds you.

There was also a miniature donkey in the petting zoo and now Mr. Daddy wants one. I've asked him where he's planning on putting it, but he hasn't really come up with a satisfactory answer just yet. We've been having fun coming up with names for it though. 'Rastus is winning right now.

So, you see, it wasn't all bad. I just think it's one of those vacations that will get better with the benefit of some time and distance.

A Comedy of Errors

Well, we had a pretty good vacation. I realize I'm damning it with faint praise, but it is what it is. Last year's vacation was so awesome that I think we just had a lot to live up to. When we're on vacation we like to see historic sites and tour quaint little towns with interesting museums. We did not find anything like that. Unfortunately, most of the little towns surrounding the state park were dying on the vine.

The campground was nice, but all the campers were bambambam right up next to each other without the benefit of even some brush or branches to provide any semblance of privacy. Fortunately, our neighbors were really nice and quiet, with the exception of the middle aged couple blasting Somewhere Over the Rainbow at midnight. Seriously? You're gonna blast show tunes? I didn't hear them but Mr. Daddy got up and politely asked them to turn it down. I know we weren't the only ones bothered because the next morning another set of neighbors snarkily asked if we'd enjoyed our Judy Garland serenade the night before.

And I don't know what happened to us, but we did not pack worth a damn. Oh, I had all the clothes and some dry goods. We'd planned to pick up the cold items we needed once we got up there. But, we completely neglected to pack our griddle, upon which we planned to cook our breakfast every morning.

So, when we headed to the local Wally world to pick up our groceries, we picked up a little cast iron griddle thingie that we figured would be perfect over an open campfire. It was only the next morning as we went to pour our eggs on it that we realized we had neglected to pack utensils. Of any kind. So. It's pretty hard to scramble eggs without a spoon or a spatula.

But guess what? A stick will do in a pinch! Mr. Daddy found a clean looking stick, dubbed it "stickula" and scrambed the heck out of our eggs with it. The eggs looked a little odd, I'm not going to lie, but they tasted delicious. Even after we bought some utensils later that day, Mr. Daddy decided to hang on to "stickula" because you just never know when a good stick might come in handy.

We went to a Pulaski Mariners baseball game one night, which was fun for me and Mr. Daddy. Bubba and Punkin only enjoyed visiting the snack bar a million times and asking "when are we going back to the camper?" We did have our picture made with Slider, the Mariner's mascot.


On Tuesday we went to the lake to swim, but all we heard was "it's too hot, I'm bored, I don't want to swim." We stayed about an hour before the whining took it's toll and we headed back to the camper.
We, like Mir, had a day of which we will not speak. Well, except for here. Actually, it was one of those days that was so bad that by the end we were all just laughing hysterically at the ludicrousness of it all. We had planned to go to a local fair on Wednesday, thinking that it opened early. It didn't.

So, we went to lunch thinking that it would be open when we finished. It wasn't.

Not really knowing anything about the area, we turned to our trusty (well, mostly trusty) borrowed GPS and queried her about tourist attractions. Rusty's Putt Around? Sure, putt putt could be fun. So, we drove 14 miles only to find Rusty's Driving Range and (non-working) batting cages.

Trusty GPS, what are our other options? Fun Challenge? Hmm, sounds like it has possibilities. But it's another 12 miles. Perhaps we should call first this time. Fun Challenge? A daycare. A DAYCARE.

Blacksburg,VA was only a few miles down the road at this point so we decided to check it out. Smithfield Plantation on the Virginia Tech campus? Hey that sounds historic -- let's check it out. Wait, what does that sign say? Open on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. What day is today? Wednesday!?!? Arghhhhh!!!!

Trusty GPS, we're giving you one more chance. What is there to DO around here? Bowling? Why the hell not. Beats driving up and down the road all day. Well, that kind of looks like a bowling alley. Or like it wants to be a bowling alley. But it is NOT currently a bowling alley, only an empty shell.

Maniacal laughter from the front seat combined with incessant whining from the backseat does not for a pleasant day make.

The only good thing I can say is that next year's vacation is going to be awesome. It will have to be compared to this one.

Can We Be Still?

About three years ago, Mr. Daddy and I had serious misgivings when we bought our first portable DVD player. Our thought was that we survived without being able to watch movies in the car, shouldn't our kids also be able to survive?

But we bought it. And we used it for the first time on a trip up to the mountains. I almost immediately regretted it because our kids missed some huge icicles hanging from the side of the mountain as well as a flock of wild geese beside the road. At one point I made them turn it off and "look at nature!"

As a child, some of my happiest memories are road trips we took. We were a singing family. I don't know if this is because the radio in our car didn't work (or did it?) or if we would have sun anyway, but we had a whole litany of favorites: "The Fox," (a song my children demand that I sing almost nightly) "I Love My Rooster," "The Cat Came Back," and even "America the Beautiful" one summer because of my inexplicable fascination with the phrase "oceans white with foam." Once we were singing a rousing rendition of "The Rattlin' Bog," a song that gets faster as you go, when my mom looked down and realized she was driving over 90 mph!

Our portable DVD player hasn't gotten a whole lot of use in the past year or so. We didn't even use it on the drive to Florida last summer, but we did use it a fair amount at bedtime or when the kids -- and I'm not going to lie, Mr. Daddy and I -- needed some down time.

But I have to admit I was intrigued when I read a post the other day on my friend's blog, What a Ride. She titled it "Be Still" and it's about their recent "unplugged" camping trip. And I want to try it.

I'm scared to death to try it, but desperate to do it at the same time. I want to enjoy this time with my children without being dependent on electronics. I want my children to learn to have a good time without needing some kind of stimulation. I want to take nature walks, look at the stars, play cards, sing songs, read.

We can do this. I know we can. And we will. But I need your help on one teeny thing. Books. I would like to read a book over several nights, a chapter book if you will, on the trip that will appeal to both Bubba (7 1/2) and Punkin (4 1/2). Both love to be read to and I'm itching for this experience -- sharing a book that we'll all love. So what is it? What is this book? What should we read, dear readers? I'm counting on you!

How Did I Get Here?

The other day as I was pouring a glass of milk at lunch for one of the kids, I had the strangest thought come over me -- how did I get here?

Specifically, how did I get to be the mother of two children? I mean, I know how I got to be a mother. I don't need the birds and the bees talk. But how did I get to the place where I'm in charge of two other human beings?

How did I get to the place where I'm willing to give up my free time for them? How did I get to the place where I put their needs before mine -- fixing their lunch before mine, even though I'm starving?

How did I go from the crazy college kid to the woman who actually seems to know what she's doing? I don't claim to have it all figured out by any means, but I think I'm doing a pretty darn good job so far. (knock wood!)

I'd like to think that it's because I had an excellent role model, my own mother.

In my mother's day card, I told my mom that there was no card out there that could truly capture all she had done for me over the years. She had been my first caregiver, my first cheerleader, my first honest critic, the first person to love me unconditionally. She is still my confidant, my strongest supporter, and now, I'm happy to say, she's also my friend.

There are stories about me that as an infant, if my mother wasn't holding me, I was crying. She thought things might get better when I learned to walk, but then I just followed her everywhere she went. I'd like to think I'm still following in her footsteps.

Breakfast of Champions

The eating issues continue apace in our house. By eating issues I mean that Bubba eats very little and Punkin eats everything. Of course I have discovered a few things that Bubba actually enjoys, but the list is quite small. Hamburger quiche (which I have to call Hamburger Pie or he gets confused), Chicken sandwiches, and tacos. That's about it.

The really frustrating thing is that there's another dish I make called Easy Cheesy Pie, which is basically just lots of cheese, noodles, and tomato sauce. It's just like the quiche minus the crust and add noodles. But Bubba won't touch it. Well, to clarify, he will eat it because he knows by now that if he doesn't eat what I put on his plate, then he doesn't eat. I refuse to be a short order cook because it's hard enough making one meal, much less two or three. But when he puts things in his mouth that he doesn't like, it's almost like you can see the food levitating in his mouth even though his mouth is closed. He holds his mouth in such a way that you can just tell that he's trying to keep as little of the food as possible from actually touching any taste buds. It's quite insulting, but I've grown quite a thick skin. I've had to. Once, when I served something he liked, he cheerfully piped up "Mommy, this is really good! It's almost like you didn't make it!" Yeah.

Now Punkin on the other hand is an eater. The child will eat most anything -- though I've discovered in the last few days that she won't even try a smoothie. I made the most delicious banana strawberry smoothie before dinner last night and she absolutely refused to let even the tiniest drop pass her lips. I swear, I felt like pinning her down and forcing her lips open because I know if she'll just try it, she'll love it! Strong will, she haz it.

Smoothies aside though, she'll eat anything. And once, in a fit of frustration with Bubba's pickiness, Mr. Daddy said "Bubba, Punkin's a better eater than you." He quickly came to regret that statement because it did nothing to inflame Bubba's sense of competition, but it did give Punkin a bit of a superiority complex. Now, whenever her plate is cleaner than Bubba's she'll point out to him how much she has eaten and declare herself the winner, which now DOES ignite Bubba's competitiveness. At which time we now have to remind them that it's not a competition.

This morning, as Punkin cleaned her plate she crowed "Look how much I ate, Bubba!"

"It's not a competition!" he growled. "It's breakfast! EVERYBODY wins at breakfast!"

If bacon's involved, I'd say Bubba was right.

The Toughest Job You'll Ever Love

I haven't mentioned that Mr. Daddy is out of town this week. ALL week. He left Monday morning and he won't be back until sometime on Sunday. So this week's on me. When we did this last year (it's an annual trip), we got in a huge fight when he returned because I said "tag, you're it" when he got home. He got all up in arms about the fact that he wasn't playing! He was working! It's not like he was just off goofing around. He might have even said something like "I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of keeping the kids by yourself for a week. It's your job." And then I might have eaten him.

Before you guys eat him on behalf, he's sort of right. It IS my job to take care of the kids and it is my job to do it by myself when he's gone. I guess what I was looking for was a little acknowledgement that it might be more difficult when one does it alone. And that while he is working during the day, when he's finished working he's then sitting by the pool and drinking beer, and eating Omaha Steaks and bratwurst hot off the grill (as he keeps reminding me). And that I might like a little time to myself after being at the beck and call of two small humans for an entire week, with little to no relief.

But you know what? This time it's been easy. Okay, not easy. But easier this time. Because this time I decided to focus on enjoying this time with my kids. Don't get me wrong -- some voices have been raised and they might have even been mine. A time or two. But on the whole the kids have been VERY good. And every time I feel my patience start to wear a little thin I remind myself -- payback is hell!

I'm just kidding. The truth is though, that you win a lot more flies with sugar than you do with vinegar. If I jump on him the minute he walks in the door, sure, he's going to react defensively. If, instead, I tell him I 'd like to go see a movie with a couple of girlfriends on a weeknight next week, he'll probably say it's fine (and he did!).

So, I've learned my lesson. Now if Mr. Daddy would just quit calling me and talking about how awesome the weather is in Florida, I'd say he's learned his too.

Let's Get Ready to Rummmmmble!

We've got a lot of ground to cover...or at least I do...so let's get started.

We had a great Christmas and I hope you did too. Punkin had a good Christmas last year, but she had a GREAT Christmas this year. She was so excited about everything, from the carols to the tree (I keep hearing her sing "fiiiive goooold riiings!), and of course, most especially the presents.

A couple of weeks before Christmas I finally pinned her down for what she wanted -- a Barbie. I had been hoping to stave off the Barbie avalanche for another year or two, but what the heck. At least it wasn't a Bratz! We were driving in the car when she very solemnly asked me "What color hair do I have, Mommy?"

"Blonde, Punkin."

"That's what I want, a blonde Barbie."

And Santa delivered.

The only thing Bubba really asked for was the Air Hogs car that drives on the wall (which Santa delivered, I might add), but his big gift from Santa was a complete surprise:


"I didn't even ASK Santa for this" Bubba crowed!

Two days after Christmas we left on our annual trip to the shrine of Dolly (also known as Dollywood). We still had our year-round passes from LAST Christmas and it seemed a shame not to use them one more time. I didn't take nearly as many pictures as last time, but here are a couple:


Some of the memories that stand out from this trip are when Punkin and I were riding the ferris wheel, out of the blue she said "Do you know what my favorite part of Christmas was? Decorating the tree!"

My eyes teared up a little, knowing that even though it was one of the most frustrating tree decorating sessions ever, that it had made an impression on her.

Punkin and I aslo shared a bed while we were gone, though "bed" is actually a very generous name for the....thing...we slept on. We were stuck with a very rundown, very saggy, very squeaky (and vaguely pee smelling) fold out sofabed. But, sleeping with Punkin ended up being pretty pleasant actually as it seems that she has grown out of her inclination to sleep with her toes dug into my belly.

One night, as we snuggled in she said "What do you smell like Mommy?"

"I don't know. What DO I smell like?" I asked, half afraid that I was going to recieve some preschooler honesty about my bad breath or somesuch.

"Just regular ol' Mommy" she said matter of factly. Whew! I can handle that.

And that's about it. Since we've been home we've been watching a lot of tv. Or having a lot of "float days" as Laurel calls them. It's an excellent concept and you should try it if you get the chance. It basically involves lots of pajamas and doing pretty much whatever you want all day.

I've got to get going....I've got a book waiting on me. One of my resolutions for the new year is to read more (right, Katie?) I'm also vowing to be more adventurous in my reading -- reading something I might not normally -- though this book doesn't fall into that category. I'm finally reading Bitter is the New Black by Jen Lancaster, which Elena has been recommending to me for ages.

Remind me to tell you about these things:

1. My new, wonderful, amazing, $21 jeans that I found.
2. My deep thoughts that I've been pondering FOREVER
3. ....Hmmmm....I know there was something else...maybe it will come to me.

Road Trip! Road Trip! Road Trip!

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

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.

Proof Positive That We Are Old. And Possibly Nerds.

Back when Mr. Daddy and I were newlyweds and had tons of free time, we used to take our dog for a walk in one of the state parks nearby. The lake at this park had been created by the Army Corps of Engineers by damning up the Savannah River, and in doing so, they had flooded a portion of the county that was a teeming metropolis during the post-Revolutionary War period. The town of Petersburg had long been abandoned, and it was quickly covered by Clarks Hill Lake.

During times of drought; however, the town would reappear. From the shoreline you could clearly see the outlines of the tiny cabins that stood in row, the wooden frames rotting, but still there. All you had to do was run your hand through the sandy lake bottom and you would come up with handmade nails by the dozen, broken shards of blue and white pottery, bits of glass, handmade bricks.

We would spend hours sifting through the sand, amazed by each find. I loved imagining what the lives of those people must have been like. What was a typical day like in the of one of the women? Full of hard work and little rest, I'm sure.

Now, about 50 yards behind our house is the site of an old homeplace. There's nothing to indicate that a house once stood there except the memories of the locals. A couple of months ago Mr. Daddy and Bubba went exploring and came back with some really neat stuff: broken pottery, the bottom of a beautiful purple glass dish, a glass seal for a Mason canning jar (circa the mid-1800s per the research Mr. Daddy did online), some pieces of an old boot with decorative work punched into the leather.

Mr. Daddy and Bubba were hooked. You can often find them down the hill, digging up pieces of the past. Bubba already wanted to be an archaeologist, but these little field trips sealed the deal.
But neither he nor Mr. Daddy were really satisfied with their discoveries. They wanted MORE.

So, on Friday of last week, our very own metal detector arrived. Yes, that's right. We are now the proud owners of a metal detector. Mr. Daddy got a lot of grief from his coworkers about being an old man. I was tempted to tease him, too, but frankly I think it's kind of cool. And I can't wait to see what we find!

You Go Down There and You Take a Right....

I've recently come to the realization that my Dad has an amusing habit. He loves to give directions. Driving directions, I mean. Well, he likes to give directions about any and everything (can you say control freak? Thank goodness I didn't turn out that way. ahem.) but in this I mean driving directions.

Recently I was inquiring about a back way to get to the Wal-Mart in a nearby town. And he was off "Well, you go down there and take a right and you go a few miles and then when you get to Sandy Cross you take a right at that four way stop. Then when you get to Pocataligo you'll veer off to the left and that will bring you out over there by John Smith's house. Do you know John Smith? Well, anyway, if you keep going about a mile down the road you'll see the Wal-Mart."

Now keep in mind Sandy Cross and Pocataligo are just communities. And that there are no signs for these communities. So, if you don't know where you're going in the first place, there is no way in heck to know if you're in Pocataligo or not. Also? I don't know John Smith and I have no idea where he lives.

When it gets really bad is when he starts telling you about places in other states using actual highway numbers as though I have any idea what he's talking about. He and my stepmother just returned on Sunday night from Idaho and we stopped by last night to say hello. Mr. Daddy lived in Idaho years ago so they started talking about some of the little towns. And before we knew what was happening, he started in.

"You know, Highway 33 comes out of Driggs and heads over to Smithtown. And Highway 32 cuts off that and heads over to Funkytown. We drove over that and went up over and around Boogerville and then took Hwy. 145 over to Flattville." And he's not even telling us about anything they SAW on the way. Just about the roads they took.

Obviously, Smithtown, Funkytown, Boogerville, and Flattville aren't real town names (at least not to my knowledge), but once he starts in my eyes just kind of glaze over. I kind of forgave him last night because there is a remote possibility that Mr. Daddy knew what in the heck he was talking about, but he does it all the time, even in places that I know that neither Mr. Daddy or I have ever been.

I don't know what the deal is. I didn't live with my dad growing up so I don't know if he's always been this way. He used to be the commissioner of roads in our county, so maybe that has something to do with it. Maybe he's just a directional savant. It's just too bad that I can't shrink him down and put him on my dashboard -- I'd have my own Dashboard Daddy GPS! Kind of like Tiny Elvis!

You Take the Good, You Take the Bad

We left town a little early on Friday in order to beat the traffic, which we did. Until we got to Gatlinburg, TN and then screeeechhhh....dead stop. I tried to find a picture of the traffic online but couldn't find anything that would do it justice. We could have bypassed it altogether, but Mr. Daddy had gotten a good deal on a hotel in Gatlinburg, so we couldn't go around it -- we had to go THROUGH it.

And about that hotel. Hotels.com? Your "reviewers"? Were obviously out smoking crack and NOT reviewing this room because it was nothing like your description. I mean, it wasn't disgusting, but it wasn't great either. Let's just say the carpet was "damp" and leave it at that.

When we woke up Saturday morning Mr. Daddy pulled back the curtain to greet the day and was greeted with rain. Not just a little summer shower, but real rain. Not to be deterred we hopped in the car and headed to Pigeon Forge. The Weather Channel had assured us the rain was isolated.

After gorging ourselves on a delicious IHOP breakfast (blueberry pancakes = YUM!), we headed over to Dollywood -- in the rain.

We rode the trolley from the parking lot -- in the rain.

We ran to the gates -- in the rain.

We stood around in the gift shop (which in a brilliant marketing scheme you MUST enter and exit through) and watched the rain pour down in buckets. We watched braver souls head out into the park, immediately getting soaked. We had one umbrella between us and Mr. Daddy had thus far martyred himself to the cause of Mommy and children staying dry -- though even that was a dubious achievement because it's terribly difficult for anyone to stay dry when three people are trying to share one small umbrella, with a toddler fighting for control of the handle and one kid hanging on the mom's leg. Yeah.

So, we splurged on another umbrella. And we stood around some more. Still raining. Then we splurged on a poncho for Bubba. And we stood around some more. Finally, when the rain slowed to a heavy drizzle instead of a downpour, we, too, headed out.

By the time we walked to the children's section the rain had almost stopped. The carousel was covered so we headed there first.


When we emerged from the Carousel the rain had stopped and we proceeded to visit all the rides in the kids' section and dry all the seats on all the rides with our butts.

At one point I asked Mr. Daddy to please take a photo of me with the kids so that I could prove I was actually there, too, but somehow I only appear in the photo below of me and Bubba on the bumper cars.


After paying $35 for hamburgers and fries for 4 people -- 2 of whom are under the age of 6 -- we rode a few more rides. By this time the sun was out and the humidity was about 1000%. I began to see the signs of imminent meltdown in Punkin and we decided it was time to head home. There are only a handful of rides there that she can ride -- most of them require you to be at least 42" tall -- and she had ridden them all several times. So we headed out of the park.

Now some of you may be wondering "What happened with the funnel cake?" Good question. First, we need to note that none of the funnel cake stands opened up until well after lunchtime. WTH? They were frying sausages and onions at 9:45 in the morning, but no funnel cake. It's practically like pancakes for pete's sake. What's the deal?

As we neared the exit, I realized that the funnel cake stand was finally open. "Hold up" I said to Mr. Daddy. "I need to get a funnel cake."

"Do you have any cash?" he asked.

"No. What happened to all the money?"

"Well, lunch happened. And an umbrella. And a poncho. And a popgun. Wait, I've got three dollars."

"Oh, I've got one here in my pocket. And I just remembered I have a dollar in my wallet. What's that? Five dollars? How much are they?"

$5.50. Five dollars and fifty cents. I was FIFTY CENTS short.

I sighed my patented martyred sigh and we headed for the exit.

Punkin fell asleep literally before we drove out of the parking lot. Bubba got his long coveted popgun. A (mostly) good time was had by all.

I Wanna Be Just Like You!

We've had a hard time getting Bubba outside this summer. His deathly fear of bees and wasps, combined with the heat and the no grass outside have turned him into an indoor slug. Which drives me bonkers. You might remember that I attended a summer camp for most of my life that some would compare to nicer prison camps in terms of their putting up with whiners. So, I too have little tolerance for whiners.

"It's too hot!" Bubba whines.

"No, it's not. We're all going outside. Let's go!"

"There's a wasp!" he shrieks.

"Just stand still, don't swat at him and he'll go away."

"I want to watch cartoons!" again with the whine.

"You've been watching cartoons all morning. It's time to go outside. Go! Now. Go do boy stuff. Look at bugs. Pick up sticks. Throw rocks. I don't care. Just get outside."

Yesterday was one of those days. We spent a good bit of the day outside even thought it was a mite toasty out there. Mr. Daddy and I emptied out our rented storage unit and moved everything into the Most Expensive Shed Ever (a story for a later date). The kids and I pulled some weeds. By the end of the day we were all sweaty and exhausted.

Today, after church, Mr. Daddy had one small project for outside. After he came in he grabbed some iced tea and said "Whew. It's hot out there. That's it for me. I'm staying inside the rest of the day."

"Ha ha!" Bubba crowed. "I told you one day you'd be like me!"

Sweet, Sweet Girl

Let me tell you a little bit about my niece Emma. Emma turned eleven in March. Emma was the first niece that I met and it was traveling to meet her for the first time that I met the first of Mr. Daddy's siblings, Craig, and his wife Nicole. We went to visit them in Huntsville when Emma was about a month old and now that I know how hard it is to have a new baby, Nicole, I'm SO sorry we imposed on you that weekend. I had NO IDEA what it might be like to have a new baby and two guests come to visit.

Emma was one of two babies at my wedding. She was about three months old and we have a great picture from the wedding of her mom and I cooing at her. She was perfectly behaved.

A couple of years ago, Emma grew out her hair for Locks of Love.

Emma is now the oldest of six children. She is bright. She is funny. She's a little quiet, but she is genuinely one of the kindest children I know. She just has a really sweet spirit and I know that when she grows up she's going to do something really great.

A couple of months ago Emma was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis. Ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease are collectively known as inflammatory bowel diseases. Crohn's disease is a chronic (ongoing) disorder that causes inflammation of the digestive or gastrointestinal (GI) tract. Although it can involve any area of the GI tract, it most commonly affects the small intestine and/or colon. Ulcerative colitis on the other hand, affects only the colon. The inflammation involves the entire rectum and extends up the colon in a continuous manner. There are no areas of normal intestine between the areas of diseased intestine. In contrast, such so-called "skip" areas may occur in Crohn's disease. Ulcerative colitis affects only the innermost lining of the colon, whereas Crohn's disease can affect the entire thickness of the bowel wall.

It is estimated that as many as 1.4 million Americans have IBD; however, many more suffer in silence due to potential embarrassment and alienation. Crohn's disease may occur in people of all ages, but it is primarily a disease of adolescents and young adults, affecting mainly those between 15 and 35. However, Crohn's disease can also occur in people who are 70 or older and in young children as well. In fact, 10 percent of those affected -- or an estimated 100,000 -- are youngsters under the age of 18. On average, people are diagnosed with ulcerative colitis in their mid-30s, although the disease can occur at any age.

My brother-in-law, Craig, has decided to run the 13.1 mile run at the Rock ‘n’ Roll San Antonio half marathon on November 16, 2008, to raise funds and awareness for research leading to improved treatment options and a cure for Crohn’s disease and ulcerative colitis.

Here is a link to Craig's site that he's set up through the Chrone's & Colitis Foundation of Americato raise money for this race. A minimum of 83 cents per dollar raised by CCFA goes directly to research and patient support, and your contribution is 100% tax deductible.

I know we're all bombarded by financial demands. Gas prices are high. But even if you have just a few dollars, please take a moment to visit and give. So that we can find a cure. So that sweet girls like Emma won't be touched by this disease.

Learning the Lingo

In yesterday's post, I started to refer to something as a "chillbuster," but then figured most of you probably wouldn't really know what I meant by that. "Chillbuster" is a word I added to my vocabulary when I met Mr. Daddy. See, he's the youngest of six kids and they developed a lingo which I've since adopted.

To give you a little background, when I met Mr. Daddy it was some months before I met some of his siblings and it wasn't until the wedding that I met all of them. I knew their names, of course, but it took me ages to learn their order by age because for some reason their actual birth order just didn't seem right.

THEN I had to learn their nicknames. They all had one, and it usually referenced some physical trait, usually disparagingly. First there was Schnoz (big nose), Chuck (short for chuckhole because he had a depression in the middle of his chest between his pectoral muscles), Flip or Gump Girl (Flip because she had big feet as a teenager and Gump Girl because she got kind of tall and lanky and awkward as a teen), Ratboy (because he has kind of a thin face and because of a certain facial expression he used to make) and Biggz (Mr. Daddy, because he has a large head).

I have to say that I find the "language" that they created quite useful and have fully adapted it into my own speech and now even into our kids'. Here's a rundown:

Chillbuster: If something is beyond cheesy and complete cringe-inducing (i.e., someone dancing very embarrassingly, the thing I get called out on most often!)

Jakey: something very tacky or trashy looking (for example, when Mr. Daddy wanted to put up a temporary dog pen at our house, I was very concerned that it would look "jakey."

A Grit: a redneck or, since Mr. Daddy and his family hailed from West Virginia, a hillbilly.

Squid Squeezin's: what they renamed a jar of candy at his Mamaw's house and which is now our standard answer when the kids ask what's for dinner.

UPDATED TO ADD: Fruit Loop Frenzy: Once when they were living in Detroit, one of his siblings walked down to the store in the snow to buy some Fruit Loops. When he got back he left them in the kitchen and went to do something and while he was gone, other sibilings ate ALL the Fruit Loops. When he got back he went into a rage, which his siblings called the Fruit Loop Frenzy. It is now used to describe any type of tantrum or fit.

I'm sure there are more, but those are all I can think of. Did you inherit any sayings from your spouse? Did they inherit any from your family? Share!

Random Funny

I got nothing. I mean, in the way of blog fodder. Don't know if it's some kind of doldrums, writer's block or what, so I'll just share with you some funny things the kids have said recently.

While on our trip, we slept "late" one morning. All the way to 8:00 -- yeah, that's late for us. When Bubba woke up and saw how bright it was, he said "Holy smokes! We slept clear 'til morning!"

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Bubba was telling me about going fishing once with his Papa Jack. He said "When Papa Jack pulled the fish out of the water, the fish was all flippery." What a great word!

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Punkin has recently become a little fascinated with my "girls." And my bras, which she calls "boobies." We were walking through Target one day and walked by the lingerie section, at which point Punkin yelled out "Look Mommy! Your boobies!" Heh.

The other day as we were getting ready to go to the pool, she found a bra of mine in the hamper. She ran into the room yelling "Here's your boobies Mommy, so you can go swimming!"

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Tomorrow we're headed out to a local music festival. They have a great kids area and will be featuring a dance troupe showing off their breakdancing skillz. Bubba is thrilled and is already working on his "moves." I'll try to get some video.