A Bun In the Oven

Nope, it's not me. Don't even go there because a bambino is most definitely NOT on my list of things to do this year. Or next. Or the next. Look for me talking about becoming with child sometime in 2012, just in time for the next presidential election to be gearing up.

The gal with the bun in the oven is my very own SIL, which will make me an auntie again! Expected date of baby drop: May 16, 2010. Probability that this expected date is wrong: 98%. New favorite web site: PBK because I am living vicariously through my SIL on the whole "planning the nursery" thing. I have a feeling I'm going to be getting on her nerves.

In other news - tonight is the night that hubby and I are going to be working on our fitness at the gym. I am dreading every single moment of it, trust me, but it truly is sweet victory when those pounds start coming off and you begin to feel like a sexy woman again. Right now I just feel like a very unsexy bovine. And I don't even have a bun in the oven.

Congrats, SIL and BIL! We love you!

First Days

My mom says she had to walk me to my classroom every day of first grade. And that finally, when second grade started, she had to lay down the law and send me to Mrs. Darrity's classroom all by myself. I can remember walking those huge halls to my classroom, eyes on my saddle oxfords and what felt like the weight of the world on my seven year old shoulders. Oh the fear of the first day of school!

I think that same nervousness followed me through college. The scenery changed, but the nervousness didn't. First days are always scary.

Today my sister started her first day of 3-K. To say I feel that time passed by too quickly is an understatement. Chad and I went to see her last night and I watched her walk into the kitchen to get something off the counter. That little show of independence made me sad because not too long ago, she was just crawling, and then toddling, the kitchen counters still a world away. Now she is running and reaching and growing even more. If growing pains are this hard for me as I watch my sister, I can't imagine what they must be like for a parent.

I talked with my stepmom, J, and I could tell that the thought of sending GJ to school was really tough on her. So she's making my dad take her and deal with the tears that will soon follow when GJ realizes that today is going to be a little different and she's going to be taking the next step away from being a baby into being a big girl. I think Dad is just as nervous as GJ is about this whole first day of school thing.

I am anxious to see how she does on this, one of many in the waiting line of "first days" in her life. If I know my sissy, she will be just fine. It's really the rest of us, the ones watching it happen and wishing back time, that I worry about.

Good luck today, GJ!

Ahoy!

Hubby and I spent the last three days on a floating spa. Okay, technically it wasn't a floating spa, it was a house boat owned by his aunt and uncle, but it really felt like a floating spa. I have to tell you, in the twenty years that I have been on the lake, I have never set foot in or on a house boat. We used to pile up on the pontoon or Daddy's boat and go ride out to the marinas on Hartwell and just STARE at the giant house boats and even the not so giant house boats and wonder what they looked like on the inside. And then we would see the really dingy, really awful aluminum looking ones (y'all know what I mean, straight 70's!), and start laughing about how if our family had one, THAT'S what it would look like, probably complete with orange shag carpet or something equally horrendous.

Okay, but back to the floating spa, I mean, weekend on the house boat. Captain L, I mean, Uncle L, and First Mate Y, I mean Aunt Y, invited Chad and me, and SIL and BIL down for the weekend. Oh, by the way, Y and L are the reason that we got to spend our honeymoon in fantabulous Mexico and not at our house. So I hold them in pretty high regard, even though this weekend was the only real time I had spent with them since meeting them briefly a year ago dressed as a semi-drunken poofball on my wedding day. I always do so well with first impressions.

I have to say that I was a bit nervous about spending the weekend on such a large vessel that did have the possibility to be tossed about in the waves. I am not known for my gracefulness or coordination and I could see myself crashing into something important and breakable. Or spilling something - that was a definite possiblity. Needless to say, Chad and I brought a bottle of WHITE WINE as a gift and I prayed a lot on the way down...that I wouldn't break anything, fall off the boat, or drink too many alcoholic beverages that would make me feel like I needed to dance to any music that may be playing.

As with most things I worry about, nothing of the sort happened. I didn't even spill anything and my falling was limited to several ungraceful moments on Big Mabel (which was an intertube). The falls of Mabel were warranted and fun though, even though I feel that I have been beaten to death as I type this.

Y and L were tons of fun...they are truly nice people and really hip...they know a lot about all kinds of different things and have traveled extensively and tell great stories. I'm a sucker for a good story. They are also much cooler than I am with their iPhones and iPods and choices of music that made me google "Bossa" as soon as I sat down at my computer this morning. (Seriously, google it. There's like, Bossa Guns 'n Roses, Bossa Stones, etc...I had never heard of it until this weekend.)

So now you know...I walked aboard a floating vessel and didn't fall off. I didn't spill a thing either. I know my mama will be so proud.

Back to Civilization...

Oh the view!

Oh, oh the fun we had! Four days with no tv, no telephone, no internet...no, we did not drop off the face of the earth, but we did drive down to Fairplay, SC, right on the Georgia line to spend Fourth of July at the lake house, like I did every 4th of July up until I reached my 20's.

We came, we saw, we tubed, we got absolutely blistered...and those four days were so good that we're going to do it again this coming weekend. I thought I'd be driven crazy by cutting myself off from the rest of the world, but being able to focus on my family was such a blessing. We watched fireworks from the pontoon, sang songs with my grandpa (and I learned that he had once been in a barbershop quartette...um...what?), and watched as my baby sister begin to realize the joys of the lake, including the ever present fire ant which seemed to terrorize all of our toes.

I drank Bartles & James with my SIL and discovered that Bud Lite Lime is quite delicious, but it also causes a slight case of indigestion, at least in my case. It was wonderful. Family is wonderful.

I hope everyone had a great 4th of July...oh, P.S. I DID NOT get to eat boiled peanuts going down the lake. Leonard's Quik Stop is under new management and they obviously do not understand the importance and significance of the boiled peanut to me because theirs was just awful. That was the only bad thing. Promise. :)

The Lake House

I hope everyone had a relaxing Memorial Day. We really didn't do much worth blogging about, unless you count Sunday when Chad helped my dad do yard work at the lake house and my step-mom disposed of a mouse that had died in the trash can. Ew. Figured you didn't want to hear about it.

It is officially here...summertime. It's my favorite time of the year - I'm a Carolina girl, remember? We live for the summertime...the other seasons are just waiting for summer to roll around. Actually, the other seasons don't get that cold so we can wear our Rainbows all the time, but I digress.

Going back to the lake house for the first time in 3 years this past weekend made me remember everything I loved and still love about summer. The lake house is like stepping back in time for me...probably because nothing has changed there in twenty years. Which is nice (except that things get kind of crusty with old age and updates need to be done for me to feel 100% comfortable showering there) because as soon as I walked in the door I was assaulted by the smell of the place. And no, I don't mean the dead mouse. It was just the smell of so many summers past...I don't know, it was weird. But it made me get excited about summertime...and my following is a list of things that go with summer like angel food cake goes with strawberries...

- Windows down, radio up, preferrably to something old school like the Eagles or Sir Elton ("Tiny Dancer")

- Rainbow flipflops...$40 of the best footwear known to man

- Dresses - you can't get through a Carolina summer without a slew of them - and usually, down here, they're worn with Rainbows, or something tacky, flashy, and boutiquey...but they are flops, ya'll!

- Shagging, and by shagging I mean the official dance of SC!

- Wine nights on the porch...either at your BFF's or on mine...hers is sometimes preferrable b/c of the screen!!!

- Lake Hartwell, Lake Keowee, Lake Greenwood, Lake Joccassee...just give me the lake!

- Beach trips...IOP, OIB, HH, SI, MB...if you don't know what they mean, come to SC and we'll set you straight!

- Cook outs...any night when there's a breeze will do - slather on the Skin So Soft, ya'll

- Playing cards until the wee hours...there's something comforting about an old kitchen table, a worn in stack of cards, and a little 5 card draw

- A good book to read at the beach or lake...it's a must and maybe this week I'll recommend some good ones to you

Everyone has their own summer traditions...those are just a few of mine...

And I'm About To Fall Asleep In My Coffee

Whew. I need a weekend for my weekend. It's been a while since my Saturday and Sunday were so full. Also, Happy Mother's Day to my moms and all the other mamas out there! I hope that you got lots of comfy TJ Maxx pajamas and discounted hardback books.

So I got to spend some quality time with my mom on Friday and Saturday, which, even though I see her several times a week and talk to her several hundred times a day, is rare. We shopped, chatted, wined, and dined. I also got to know a bit more about mama's taste in men. Apparently she likes 25 year old waiters from Ruby Tuesdays. That have a criminal record. Now, don't get me wrong, she is head over heels for my step-dad, but she did make several comments on how cute this waiter was. He did have pretty eyes, but I was also sure that he most likely had VD. And did I mention that he had a record? That he told us about? Along with his family drama? Note to guys out there trying to pick up married women: leave the family drama out of it. We have our own and we are most likely not going to feel sorry for you. Save it for Dr. Phil, baby. Oh and we're most likely not going to dump our husbands to come back and date you. Unless we starred with Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction" and if that's the case, heaven help you and your VD.

I spent the night with Chelle on Saturday night and after going to see "Ghosts of Girlfriends Past" we had wine night and a lot of laughing on her porch until the wee hours. Seriously, I find that I am a night owl when I'm with Chelle. Maybe it's because after every glass of wine consumed, she tells me, "you are not going to bed right now" and since she is a federal probation officer, I pretty much do what she says.

Sunday was filled with lots of Mother's Day things, including seeing my blunt step-grandmother, ME, who happened to read the post I wrote about her. She thought it was hilarious. Love you, ME!

My honey came home after camping smelling like camp smoke and dirt. I was so happy to see him (especially after he showered after NOT showering in 2 days). So now it's back to the grind after a weekend apart. But, did I mention that I was really really glad to have him back?

Cheers to Moms...

Mothers Day is the hardest holiday for me to buy for and not just because I now have three moms to purchase gifts for. My MIL and step-mom are pretty easy, but my mother - oh dear. I struggle every single holiday trying to rack my brain on things she would love. The things I KNOW she'd like (a day at the spa, a vacation in Maui) are just a teeny bit out of my price range at the moment (one day, Mama, one day), so I usually end up with mediocre gifts that she says she likes but are not up to my own personal gift giving standards. It doesn't help that money is tight while Chad's going to school and we're not using credit cards anymore (5 months and counting - can I get a what what). HOWEVER...I have found some ways to make mama happy while making ME happy with what I've purchased and making my budget happy, too. Hope this helps any struggling daughter or daughter-in-law out there (or son, even though if you're married you know that your wife buys it for you, so don't even go there)...

1. Pajamas - I don't know one person who does not adore soft, comfortable, MATCHING pajamas. Go to TJ Maxx or Marshall's for name brand pajamas at a fraction (and I do mean FRACTION) of the retail price. They even have Karen Neuberger (Oprah's favorite things, look it up) sometimes if you look.

2. Chocolates - Get a small box of Godiva and she will feel indulged but not guilty for indulging!

3. Bottle of Wine or 4-pack of Sophia - If you don't know what Sophia is, I wish my friend Amanda was here to tell you because she does it best! But I will try to fill her shoes...Sophia is champagne in a (pink) can with a straw. It's delicious and cute and most of all, fun. I have not met anyone who was not delighted and charmed by those yummy pink cans of bubbly. I don't think grocery stores sell them, but wine stores do (Total Wine at Greenridge, ya'll).

4. A hardback book - There is something about a hardback book that just makes you feel ritzy and special. Maybe it's just me and my bookwormy self, but I just love a hardbacked book. A friend of mine from the C of C days was also an avid reader and loved to showcase her books throughout our apartment in creative ways - and they were all hardbacks. (She was also the one that got me into loving bird cages - she displayed hardback books in this gorgeous birdcage and yeah, I have done the same in my own home). At first I thought she was a trust fund baby, but then she let me in on her secret: the clearance shelves at Books-A-Million and Barnes & Noble. You can get overstocks and much more for like 75% off on these shelves. You do have to look and be open to possibly reading some obscure authors that didn't make the NYT Bestseller List, but you can get a nice hard backed book for as low as $4.98. I know. I did it today.

5. A plant/flowers - Feed her indulgences with the chocolate, her comfort with the PJ's, her tastebuds with the wine, her mind with the book, and finally, her spirit with a pretty potted plant or flower. Get them cheap at BiLo, Lowe's, or Home Depot and then repot it in a pretty pot from Hobby Lobby or Old Time Pottery. Cheap and pretty. And it will last!

I guess maybe I am a pretty good gift giver after all, if I do say so myself. The thing is, with these gifts, you can tailor it all to fit the person. And there is not one woman out there who doesn't love these things - even for the mom who doesn't read, she may cook and that is something that is a GREAT gift - a pretty cook book. You can even get a display stand for it (if you look hard) for $9.99 or less at places like Ross. And a P.S. - write an inscription on the inside of the book you give. It personalizes it and makes it truly one of a kind!

Monday Rewind

I didn't go to Jazzercise last night. Now before you start booing and hissing at me, let me tell you that better plans came up. Namely, a dinner date with my sister, my step-mom, my mom mom, and my hubby. Sweating like a pig under the glare of the Jazzercise Nazi or hanging out with some of my favorite people? Wow, what a decision!

My sister is 3 and is becoming more and more independent every day. Last month she wanted to be a firefighter (due to the grand experience she had at Firehouse Subs) and now she wants to be a doctor. This is due to a fetching doctor's kit that she carries around with her, complete with a "telescope" as she refers to the stethoscope. It's so cute that I don't have the heart to correct her. Upon my arrival, she gave me a full physical exam, complete with a shot which I acted like hurt terribly. She thought this was hilarious and proceeded to give me several more shots in the arm. I am pretty sure I am immune to the swine flu or whatever various diseases are going around. Thanks GJ.

She did the same thing to Chad when he got there and then decided to ignore me and the rest of the world and give her full attention to my husband. GJ is like that - she is enthralled with Chad, like any red blooded female should be! She's been that way since the two of them met, when she was 9 months old. I'm sure that any other sisterly relationship would suffer if the spouse of one paid more attention to the wrong sister, but in this case, I'm going to let it slide. The two decade age difference may have something to do with my nonchalance. In any case, GJ is good for hubby - she keeps him young. And healthy, thanks to her doctoring skills.

Just Like Ridin' A Bike

Well, ya'll, it's Monday morning. And can I just say that last week did wonders for my figure (despite the absence of Jillian and her shred) but that I ruined it all with the following menu from Saturday to Sunday: McDonald's Chicken Nuggets/Fries (I refuse to eat a cheeseburger there ever again because of an incident involving Frack, a quarter pounder, and an unidentified piece of something embedded in her meat), Chick Fil A Number 1 and a brownie a la mode, and Cracker Barrel for Sunday dinner. Throw in an old fashioned from Dunkin' Donuts and we have ourselves a fat butt for the summer. Awesome. But tonight the Jazzercise Nazi performs on Woodruff Road, so hopefully some of those calories will just melt off like buttah.



It was a Chadee weekend this weekend and despite it being cut short due to something going on with her stomach (please pray, ya'll...test results come back this week and we are all anxious), we had a grand 'ole time. And something that is eventful in every child's life happened to Miss Bug. Chadee Bug that is. She learned how to ride a bike without training wheels.



Do ya'll remember how important your bike was to you growing up? Hubby and I have had many a conversation about how "back in the good 'ole days, we rode our bikes everywhere." And by everywhere I mean I rode my back down the street to my friend's house to jump on her trampoline. I truly believe that Chad truly believes that he lived through the Depression era and was forced to ride his back to and from school and then to his after school job as a fountain boy scooping ice cream, a la "It's A Wonderful Life." The point is that both of us felt like our bikes were a huge part of the growing up process and I know that it bothered Chad that Chadee could not ride without training wheels.

He got his wish to teach her one of his favorite things on Saturday and she was an apt pupil. She got on that bike and with practically no help at all, was off and riding. And loving every minute of it. The look on hubby's face was priceless - it was the same face I know my own dad made when he finally let go and let me ride on my own, waaay back when. He whooped it up in SIL's cul-de-sac and there was no doubt that Chadee (and all the neighbors) knew how proud he was of her. And even though both of us knows that riding on her own will mean scraped knees and elbows, those are just the "trophies" of growing up and learning something new.

On Sunday, we went to church with my step-mom to see my sister, GJ, sing with the preschool choir. Sissy did a terrific job - much like I did when I was her age - ha! I'm hoping that if she ever decides to do a solo, maybe to the Christmas classic "What Child Is This", she practices and sings the right words instead of "Whose Child Is This" like I did when I was singing in church as a kid. True story.

Anyway, I hope ya'll had a terrific weekend.

Irritable

I am irritable this morning. Let me give you a run down.



Our precious pup, Lucy, is part beaver. As in, she chews anything and everything that is made out of wood. Including our mouldings, and, most recently our door frame. It's quite attractive and makes me so excited to entertain. The "chewed up and spit out" look goes well with the broken front window that hasn't been repaired since we discovered it was broken six months ago. It's alright. It's double paned. For dessert, Lucy chewed a whole in the quilt my great aunt made that I've had for years and years. Unfortunately, Aunt Gert died in 2004, so repairs can't be made unless I'm really really good at sewing class or Aunt Gert decides to come back and haunt us for letting a four legged beast ruin her handiwork. Why was the precious quilt on the bed, you ask? Let me tell you.



Our sheets were dirty and the OTHER blanket that we have on our bed (that's chewed to smitherens but we still use it because it's big and nobody really ever sees our bedroom anyway) was absolutely disgusting. Why didn't I just wash it? GREAT question! Our dryer went kaput. As in, won't even make a noise. It died a quiet death, evidently. Luckily, it managed to dry a load of towels beforehand or we'd really be in trouble.

Do you know how lucky we are to have the incredible invention of the dryer? I didn't realize how the dryer rivaled the importance of Starbucks until I got home last night and looked at the ginormous pile of clothes that were just lumped in my bedroom floor amid the chewed moulding and Aunt Gert's quilt and almost freaked out. Husband, being the genius that he is, immediately called SIL to see if we could make a wash/dry run at her house. She, of course, is a saint and said of course! See you in a bit! Which is why I was over at my SIL's house until 11:15 washing and drying clothes. And making my niece cry. Because I'm awesome like that.

The thing with Victoria happened like this. We pull up. She runs out to the truck and is all, "Kelley, can you please help me pick out something to wear tomorrow?" And I'm like, "Sure! I will share my fashion savvy with you and we will have a lovely time!" All was well in the world. Then she pulls out a shirt from Abercrombie & Fitch. Girlfriend is 9. Okay, that is another post altogether on why little girls should NOT wear clothing from places whose walls are adorned with half naked teenagers frolicking around in fields. They should wait until they are 13. Like watching PG-13 movies.

Anyway, where the shirt was purchased was beside the point. It was way too big. Because it was a WOMEN'S EXTRA SMALL AND SHE IS A CHILD may have had something to do with it. She had it on with capris and the shirt was somewhere around her kneecaps. Not a good look. Me, being the big mouth that I am, told her so. She didn't like it. AT ALL. And then she promptly burst into tears, leaving me to feel like the biggest fuddy duddy in the history of the world for not agreeing that the dang A&F ensemble didn't look fetching and fabulous.

Victoria and I eventually made up because that's we always do when we have a fight. It's like having a little sister sometimes. Perhaps I just have the mentality of a 9 year old, but I prefer to think of it as "relating."

Anyway, that was my night. Our dryer is still broken as of 7:20 this morning when I walked out the door. I can pretty much guarantee it will still be broken when I get home. Luckily I have an equally saintly BIL who is coming to take a gander at it tonight. God bless them both. Hopefully there will be less irritation tomorrow.

*My SIL was not responsible for the purchase of said A&F shirt.*

And they finally said I Do

The newlyweds - my SIL, Christy, and my new BIL, Matt


Oceanside ceremony - the bridesmaids and junior bridesmaids

Why yes, I would like to wear my hair this way!




My SIL and me

The "old" newlyweds

Well, ya'll, it was quite the crazy weekend. My SIL and her love are now eternally joined, for better or for worse and it really was a beautiful wedding. I took my duties as bridesmaid very seriously - meaning that I had a glass of the cheapest champagne available from the Litchfield Beach Bi-Lo available at all times. I think I drank most of it on my own and amused myself by popping the corks and having the people across the waterway ask me (actually yell at me from their dock) if I was shooting a gun. Because that's what we Southern girls do - shoot guns at wedding receptions in our bridesmaid's dresses. Classy.

This wedding was the first one since my own, a mere 7 months ago - dear Lord, I HAVE to get those thank you notes out. Tacky is my middle name. It was weird to be a married person doing the wedding party thing. Before, when I was a bridesmaid, I stood in awe of the whole spectacle of the dress, the cake, etc. Now, as a bona fide married person, I stand in awe of the vows and the whole covenant before God. Funny how time and experience changes you that way. My eyes met Chad's while their uncle, John, recited the words they were to say to each other. Uncle John also married Chad and me. It was like taking a step back to that day in September when both of our lives changed completely. I look back on the girl that I was that day and laugh a little bit. Oh little did I know that I knew so little!

It was also a weekend of firsts for me - well, just one first, really. I saw a real live alligator - just moseying around, not in a zoo or in captivity. He (she?) was hanging out in the water by the beach house. Now, I am an animal lover and get a little overwhelmed by nature at times and this time was no exception. I completely freaked out when I saw this thing. I thought it was unbelievably cool and was proud to point out the fact that me, myself, and I had spotted Mr. Gator sunning himself. I nicknamed him Bob. I had had a couple of glasses of champagne at this point. Luckily I didn't try and pull a Steve Erwin and catch the dang thing. It may have been a wedding weekend minus a limb.

On a more serious note, please keep SIL and BIL in your prayers as they start their lives together. Also, please keep Angie at Bring the Rain in your prayers, too. I don't know Angie personally, but I have been following her blog over the past year. Her story is amazing.

Fight Club

I am at work today and grateful for the solitude my cubicle brings me, especially after this weekend. No, no one died, was maimed, or hurt in any way...well, on the outside that is. However, this weekend did bring on a little pre-PMSing in the form of a SIL fight.

Let me give you a bit of background. My SIL (who reads this blog, love you and thanks for giving me some juicy stuff to blog about) and I could not be more different. In fact, we are on opposite ends of the personality spectrum. She is a tell it like it is kind of girl and I am more of the passive agressive closet biotch. When the two collide in a bad moment, World War III begins.

It began as a normal Saturday night. My niece, Tori, was planning on coming over to visit with Chadee. That had been the plan and I was cool with it because Tori and Chadee entertain one another and they are BFF. Well, around 8:30 pm, Tori still wasn't at our house and I like for Chadee to be in bed by at least 11:30 on the nights she is with us. I am hip that way. My SIL calls my hubby and since we are in the same room, I am getting his end of the conversation, which basically goes "so Tori's going with Mimi? She's not coming?" and then he hands the phone to me. In the meantime, my step-daughter's face crumples and she goes into emotional breakdown mode. LOVELY. I am not so good with comforting people, especially kids who have a tendency to REALLY FREAK OUT. So I get the phone and am already on the defensive - crying 9 year old, irritable looking hubby.

"Does Tori not want to hang out with Chadee," I asked.

"She's going to the movies with Mimi. She's pitching a fit about it and Mimi promised her. Why, is Chadee upset?"

"Uhhh, yeah. She's over here crying," I said shortly.

"Well, I CAN'T MAKE EVERYONE HAPPY!"

My fuse, which is normally longer than average, blew at that moment. "Don't get a freakin' attiude with me!"

And with that, my SIL hung up on me.

I threw the phone at my hubby, because, you know, it was his fault, and I went on a tirade about the whole thing. Needless to say, I didn't hear from SIL for the rest of the night.

Sunday morning began with the fight still in, well, fight mode. I was determined to get an apologize or I was "NOT going to her wedding and I WOULD be taking the **$#@ bridesmaid's dress back!" My poor hubby was trying frantically to fix the situation, but to no avail.

At 2:30, my SIL called the house and asked to speak to me. She told me she was sorry for hanging up on me. I laughed and told her I forgave her. Then we all went to Outback for "make up steaks."

And that's the end.

Pillow Talk

My husband is sick. So sick, in fact, that he skipped his weekly lab to go home and nap with Jake and Lucy. It's understandable. If I was taking a physics lab, I would skip it any time I got a tickle in my throat. Seriously though, he sounded so pathetic on the phone that I went by CVS after work and picked up the curer of all that ails you - the NettiPot. My parents have one and my step-dad swears by it, so I figured, what the heck.

After dinner (which I started cooking, but my husband, in his infinite culinary wisdom, took over) he mixed the saline solution and NettiPotted away. He didn't even whine all that much. I think that it did make him feel better, even if he won't admit that a bright blue mini teapot could do the tricks that Benadryl obviously can't. In my opinion, Benadryl is only useful for one thing - sleeping late. I use it as my cheap alternative to Ambien. Sue me.

We got to talking before we went to sleep, which is not like us because my pre-sleep time includes reading whatever literature of choice I have at the moment (at this time it's Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged - yes, you can call me an intellectual giant) and ignoring everything else around me. He started telling me childhood stories that I haven't heard, amazingly, including one that really blew me away.

Evidently, his aunt and uncle own some house in Inman that various members of his family have lived in from time to time. Don't ask. One of his aunts said that she was staying there and sleeping on the couch in the living room and opened her eyes to see a line of ghosts walking through the house and into the kitchen. She said she closed her eyes and opened them again and the ghosts were still there. So she grabbed her Bible and held onto it and prayed and then the ghosts were gone. Chad said that he had to sleep over there and sleep on that same couch and was terrified the entire night.

I burst out laughing when he told me this, not because I didn't empathize with him, but because it was such a ludicrous thing. What was it, a ghostly version of America's Next Top Model with the ghosts strutting down an Inman house's catwalk? And who in their right mind tells a child a story like this? I have learned that you just DON'T tell kids scary stuff because a.) I was a kid and remember how things just stuck in my brain like gorilla glue and b.) they will never forget it and you will always be known as the slightly batty, weird mom/dad/aunt/uncle who told the ghost stories.

We have such romantic pillow talk, don't you think?

Sisters

I was on the far side of 22 when my sister Gracie was born. I will never forget that day - or the amount of excitement that led up to March 7, 2006. Yup, tomorrow my precious baby sissy will be the big 'ole 0-3. My, how time does fly.

Gracie has changed so much in the past 3 years - from being this tiny red thing that I cuddled every chance I got to this fiercely independent toddler that makes me (and everyone else) laugh. Her vocabulary grows by leaps and bounds and the things that come out of her mouth amaze me. How can one little person grow so fast?

All Fish Go to Heaven

We have had a family tragedy. Our fish, who has been with us for almost a year, bit the dust yesterday. I came in from work and was assualted by a horrid smell. I have to tell you that our house doesn't always smell like Martha Stewart's because we have two furry canine friends roaming freely. But THIS was unlike anything I can put into words. I walked over to the fish bowl because I had been hoping, I mean, THINKING that Ned was not doing so well. He hasn't eaten in like, 3 weeks and due to very large vet bills that were incurred earlier this year, we didn't feel the need to take him to the fish doctor. If doctors for Beta fish exist. I digress.

Poor 'ole Ned was floating belly up at the bottom. I think he went peacefully. I ran out and told Chad, who was shoveling Sunday's snowfall off our deck to prevent serious injury to his wife, and when he came in we had a small funeral for him (the fish) in the bathroom. And then Chad told me the truth. "I think I killed Ned. I didn't mean to. I meant to scoop the extra fish food out." As heartbroken as I am about not having to clean a fish bowl EVER again, I had to give him a hard time about killing the Beta. He suggested that we purchase another fish. I suggested that he keep dreaming.

Discover...Sanity

Wow. Today has been long. It is almost 9:30 here in the deep South (that's currently in a deep freeze, just FYI), but it feels like I have been run ragged. To all you full time moms, I again am amazed at you. I need to kiss your mommy godly feet or something. Because today kicked my butt in all kinds of ways.

Again, I am just a part-time, every other weekend step-mom. Yes, I know I have my place in the circle of mommyhood, but it's very small and insignificant, I know. Today, though, I feel as if I've joined the ranks of REAL moms. Today, my friends, we took four children under the age of 10 to Discovery Place in Charlotte, NC. All day.

I had never been to Discovery Place before, but basically it's like a kid's museum. There are a lot of interactive exhibits that teach kids about electromagnetic stuff and science. And then there's the big tank of water with many sea creatures in it that you can pet. There was also a large boa constrictor type snake that the kids could touch (there was a trainer holding it and I still freaked. That whole chimpanzee going berserk thing is still on my mind.). And there was a fun IMAX movie that talked about the Grand Canyon and how it was going dry and we were responsible and we were all going to perish. Or something. I was just trying not to throw up as I was tossed about in a raft on the Colorado River. It's that real, I tell ya. Oh did I mention that we were herding kids under the age of 10 around all day?

There was a Circus exhibit where kids could put on a harness, climb up to about 25 feet and walk a high wire. My step-daughter did that. I was scared to death that the high wire would snap and I would have to explain all of it to her mother. She was fine though. Just cruised right through.

It was on my way home, though, that I had my first mommy panic attack. Chadee was riding with my SIL and future BIL and the rest of the kids in an SUV (oh, did I mention that Chad and I rode separately? Are you feeling less sympathetic towards me now? :) ) and Matt, even though I love him to pieces, is not known for his stupendous driving skills. I watched in horror as we drove down the interstate towards home, my stomach in knots every time Matt changed lanes. At one point, I looked at Chad and asked him "is this what it feels like to be a parent? To worry constantly?" He just looked at me and said simply, "Yes." It was like he knew I was finally getting it. I got it so much that I couldn't take the panic anymore, reclined my seat, and slept the rest of the way home.

My niece's first ever crush joined us on the adventure. Can I just tell you how cute that is? That sweet little boy gave up his whole Saturday doing whatever boyish things there are to do to come and hang out with three little girls. Either he's a future Prince Charming or he's a player in training. My niece was thrilled that he was there AND he brought her a birthday present - some bling jewelry. Yeah, the kid is smart. Oh and he ALSO has a nicer cell phone that me. What is that? Is it wrong to be semi jealous of a 9 year old because his cell phone is cooler?

Well, "Enchanted" is playing in another room. I'm hoping that some of that movie will rub off in my life and I can just call out to my forest friends to come clean my house. Yeah right.

Singin' Oldies Goldies

The first time I ever encountered Billy Bob at Show Biz Pizza, I was two and giving him my pacifier because evidently, Billy Bob had an illegitimate baby (possibly with the blonde duck cheerleader?) and that baby needed my paccy. In other words, my mother bribed me. This was in 1985 and I remember distinctly that "Walk of Life" by Dire Straits was a hit that was played at Show Biz over pizza and skeeball.

Flash forward to 2009...very close to 25 years later. Today I joined my mom, step-dad, and baby sister, Gracie, at the reformed Show Biz, now hosted not by a big loveable bear, but a very large rodent named Chuckie. You got it. Today I dined at Chuck-E-Cheese. It still has that same charm...mediocre pizza, endless refills of sugary soft drinks, silly games, and the prize table that holds approximately $15 worth of toys that MAY cost you $1500 in tickets to "win." And of course there is Chuck-E himself, an automated vermin that sings unintelligble songs to excitable toddlers and school age children. GJ loved it, of course, as did I when I was young.

I have to tell you the truth - being there makes me feel old. I was literally exhuasted when we left - following an almost 3 year old around hyped up on punch, carbohydrates, and sheer energy is enough to wear anyone out. And she of course she wanted to see Chuck-E. Actually, she wanted to climb onto the little enclosed stage where robot rat was mouthing songs. I'm guessing her next question would have been "sissy, can we take him home?" if I hadn't made her get off the stage.

I am blessed though, ya'll. I get to relive my childhood early through my sister. And hopefully sooner than later (like 3 years), she'll be with 'lil Butlers at Chuck-E-Cheese. I just wish they would find a new mascot.

"And after all the violence and double talk
Theres just a song in the trouble and the strife
You do the walk, you do the walk of life" - 1985...you were a good year.

Hot Pink Bibles & Taylor Swift

Friday is my niece, Victoria's, birthday. She will join her cousin Chadee is the ranks of the "last single digits" or "the calm before the storm." Aka, she will be 9. It is sure to be a fun filled weekend - a cook out on Friday night and then we are going to Discovery Zone in Charlotte for a day of well, discovery. Or something. Anyway, there's an IMAX theater there and my husband seemed really pumped about it. I'm game.

Because I am a cool aunt who likes to give presents, I asked Tori what it was that she wanted for her birthday. I knew the first item on her list immediately - a hot pink Bible. Now, I must explain that her desire for a hot pink Bible is my fault. I bought Chadee this particular copy of God's word, complete with the hot pink cover (in crocodile print) back in the fall when Chadee got baptized. Evidently, Tori has been coveting it ever since. Because you can't really understand the Psalms unless you are color coordinated. I completely understand because I have been debating on whether or not to get a hot pink Bible myself.

Tori also requested a copy of the new Taylor Swift CD. I have no qualms with that and as soon as she mentioned it, I began singing "Love Story" and Tori chimed in. It was quite an ear piercing horrific duet. Seriously though, I think Miss Taylor Swift is cute as a bug and has yet to lower her morals and pull up her dress like so many of her contemporaries. At least, I haven't read about anything she's been accused of on perezhilton lately. So I don't mind my niece and step-daughter rocking out to songs they don't really understand, like, well "Love Story." I'm sure we'll all be rocking out to the entire CD on the way to Charlotte.

Oh, I do have to mention the cake, too. My SIL informed me that Tori wanted edible pearls on her cake like the ones I had on my wedding cake. I was momentarily confused...did she want me to order her an ACTUAL wedding cake? So I called Couture Cakes because Susan is my go to person for all things cake like and yummy (and she made our wedding cake) and tried to explain what it was that Tori wanted. And because she is a cake making genius, she understood and even told me that she had JUST gotten in rhinestone crowns that were NOT ONLY cake decorations, but were wearable. Um, yes please. I asked for the final total and almost swallowed my tongue when she told me that Tori's 9th birthday cake with edible pearls and crown would be $50. Oh good.

But hey, you can't have a hot pink Bible and Taylor Swift without a bejewled crown on your birthday cake, right? I think not. I am so looking forward to that cake.