Our Recipe For Disaster

Where in the world has time gone?

I have missed almost 2 weeks of blogging, people.

My sincere apologies to anyone who really gave a hoot.

2010 has just zoomed on into our lives, and we haven't had a chance to stop and breathe.

For some of the past 11 days, I have been dealing with this:



Do you see it? (No, not the tree... It's already put away.) That ginormous box?

Yep. It is EXACTLY what you think it is.

It seems that, like myself, Santa is getting old. And senile. And just plain stupid. Don't mis-read me here... I LOVE the guy. LOVE him.

But who in their right mind buys a trampoline?

Or as I affectionately call it...

A death-o-line.

Or a broken neck-o-line. Or at least a broken collarbone-o-line or broken arm-o-line or broken something-o-line.

What was Santa smoking?

Not only are they dangerous, they require assembly. Like with real tools and arm strength.

So in the absence of Dan/daddy/all-purpose builder of toys, I recruited my neighbor.

He and I and the boy put the crazy thing together on one of our balmy 24 degree Fahrenheit days. Good times.

And because it was 24 degrees, and because he had been working all afternoon, and because he needed to leave, and because it was getting dark... I told him to stop where he was.

That I would finish the last little bit.

Oh. My.
Not one of my wisest decisions.

For the next few days, I played the "It's too cold" card.

Then the blessed guilt crept in.

So I put on a sweater, a scarf, a coat, another coat, a hat, and gloves. Which are impossible to work in. So I took them off. And I went outside to finish putting the darn thing together.

WARNING: What you are about to read and see is REAL. The participant is not an actor. She is a klutz, and should not have even attempted it herself. (There are no actual pictures of the klutz... she was too busy working to take a photo of herself. She was also concentrating on not dying and not freezing.)

I put one foot on this:



I put the other foot on this:



And I climbed up and balanced and held a screwdriver in my teeth and I fixed all the little pole cap thingys that were twisted. And I shivered.

I had to climb up and down my homemade contraption a grand total of 6 times, turning the whole trampoline between each one. Good times.

Then I had to go all around the bottom of the net and tie 438,553,376,255 straps. And I shivered. And I am not exaggerating.

So 2 weeks after Santa had his brain toot and bought a trampoline... it was finally TOTALLY up.



Let the bouncing begin!



(And the trips to the ER...)

Mini-Me... At My Worst

There's a boy who lives at my house.

He's smart, sweet, loving, cute, and pretty darn funny.

I won't start this post with the argument over who he looks like.

It is a RAGING debate.

I'll let you come to that conclusion on your own.

But... I will inform you that he ACTS like his daddy most of the time. Even has some of the same mannerisms and facial expressions. Kinda spooky.

I can also say that when he is at his goofiest, I see myself.

I can also tell you that it is most uncomfortable when you see yourself in your child's "not so nice" moments.

Like this morning.

School was delayed 2 hours due to the threat of snow. (Gotta love the South.) It actually worked out nicely because 2 people who shall not be named stayed up WAY too late watching Alabama win the National Championship. (Roll Tide.) So sleeping in (somewhat) was helpful.

Just as we were about to head out the door at 10:00 AM, the boy asks me to check a paragraph he'd written for Math. I read it, and I suggested he make a correction.

Mistake #1. (Mine.)

The correction was a verb tense. I knew what it was supposed to be, and I even explained the grammar rule behind it. But he wasn't buying it. Apparently, I know nothing.

There's nothing like a roaring argument with a 10 year old to start your day. Your "Slept-In-Late-Cause-It-Was-Supposed-To-Snow-But-It-Didn't-Favorite-Team-Won" Day.

Good times.

After a few long tension-filled moments and a heated discussion, he relented.

He stomped toward the door and yelled, "You're right!"

I put my hand out to stop him and calmly (lie) asked, "Are you just saying that to end this argument or because you understand the correction I made?"

With an evil little smirk, he looks at me, and says, "Both."

Did you see me? There I was... in little boy form...

1. CONVINCED that I was right

and...

2. avoiding confrontation

and...

3. being a smarty-pants about the whole thing

He should have just held up a mirror.

It's pretty hard to get angry at a small version of yourself that you created, both genetically and by modeling your "not so nice" behavior.

In all fairness, his dad would say that half of the nasty genes came from him as well. I've heard plenty of stories about how no one could tell "little Danny" how to do something... especially having to do with sports... He already knew everything.

I think children are God's way of showing us things about ourselves that we would never understand or change otherwise.

I just hold out for the moments when the nice things come out. When he says or does something that I know came from me, and I am actually proud of it.

PS... I think school starts so dang early just so we won't have time to dislike our kids before they leave for the day.

Ten on Tuesday... Finally

I hope the lack of holiday photos isn't disappointing. I may get a few up here soon for the family among us.

We are still recovering from all that joyous jolly good fun. Reality hit us like a ton of bricks, and reality involved not wearing PJs anymore. Boo. We have barely mustered the strength to get out of the bed these last 2 days. With it a blazing 19 degrees outside, who wants to go anywhere? Besides to the couch?

So on this balmy afternoon,I give you...

"Ten on Tuesday"

I have tried to link to a bloggy friend's blog for several weeks, and neither my brain nor my computer will cooperate. I think everything in my house is out to get me. Seriously. I am not joking.

Once a week, there's this fun little blog world thing that some folks participate in... it's called Ten On Tuesday. Very informative and somewhat educational. And I will justify pretty much anything.



So, in yet another attempt to be as cool as I think I am, here is my own "Ten On Tuesday" for this week!

1. Are there any movies that inspire you to bake/cook?
Movies, no. Still haven't seen that Julie/Julia flick. TV? Oh yes. I am always inspired to cook when watching my fav Food Networkers. I am always inspired to EAT when watching "Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives."

2. What’s your favorite food blog and why?
Probably... Bake at 350... the pics are awesome, and I stand in awe of her talent.

3. Who’s your favorite celebrity chef?
I have a crush on Bobby Flay. I love to hear him say chipotle.

4. What’s your favorite kitchen tool?
A whisk. I think.

5. When it comes to cooking/baking, what’s your specialty?
Anything fattening. Anything with cheese, butter, cream cheese, sour cream... or chipotle.

6. When in the kitchen, do you wear an apron, if so, any cute ones you’d like to share?
Um, no. I am loving this whole new cutsie-pie retro apron craze, but I am just not the kind of gal who's gonna stop and put one on.

7. Is there anything that intimidates you when it comes to baking/cooking? (ex. Pie crust, yeast breads, sauces, etc…)
Heavens, yes. Pie crusts and breads with yeast are at the top of the list. I am especially intimidated by people who go on and on as if those things are the easiest things in the world to make.

8. What’s the weirdest gadget in your kitchen?
A coffee milk froth-er thingy. Pretty odd and not so practical, but I do use it.

9. What’s your go-to music for cooking/baking?
The radio that sits on top of the fridge. It's on the local Christian station, and sometimes they chat too much and I get annoyed.

10. After several failures, what do you do to motivate yourself to get back in the kitchen to try again?
Honestly, if a certain dish fails multiple times, I take it as a sign from God that I am not supposed to be making it. If I am failing in general in the kitchen... or falling (both have happened)... we go out.

Which is where we may be headed tonight...

2010

The party here last night was out of control.





Happy New Year to all my people.

(That would be friends and family and bloggy-friends... but "people" makes me seem all hip and cool. Cause I am.)

I hope and pray that your year will be blessed with love and good times.

I hope and pray to catch up on all the projects I said I would do while my husband was gone for a whole year. He's coming home in 4 months, and I have a grand total of 0 projects done.

I hope and pray to get Twinkles and Sparkles put away before Valentine's Day.

I hope and pray that for every dollar I spend, I save 10. Yeah, right.

I hope and pray that I will get to see my family more... by tele-porting myself to their homes and not doing anymore driving. A girl can dream, ok?

I hope and pray that my little boy will stop growing up. And eating so much along the way. I will not be able to afford groceries when the other consumer in this house returns to the table.

I hope and pray to be more organized, less anxious, and 20 pounds skinnier.

Now I've crossed over into absurdity.

I promise I wasn't drinking anything but a milkshake last night. At 11:40 pm. So much for that 20 pounds.

Happy 2010!

Now I Know How Mary and Joseph Felt

... except nobody here is "great with child." And they didn't drive a Jeep.

I am referring to their long and uncomfortable journey to get to "Christmas."

I have parked the family sleigh/donkey and I am NOT moving it again.

(Well. We do have the Christmas Eve service tonight.)

The boy and I have been over the river and through the woods and on the interstate and in the car and in the fast food joints and in the gas station bathrooms and listening to Christmas music on the radio since last week.

I think if I had to look at the highway stretching out in front of me for one more second... I might do something not nice. Or say something not nice at all.

And I really don't think I could listen to Mariah Carey sing about all she wants for Christmas ONE. MORE. TIME. Really, Mariah. All I want for Christmas is for that song to never be played again.

There was a purpose to our traveling madness.
We visited Dan's family in Florida for Christmas, and a good time was had by all. We opened too many gifts and ate too many sweets, and the boy had a grand time playing with Dan's cousin. I know there is a camera around here somewhere with all the photographic evidence. I just have to find it. Preferably before tomorrow.

We also made a quick stop to stay a night in Atlanta with my brother, sis-in-law, and nephew.

Now, we are home, and I am determined to stay in my PJ's and in my house for the next 48 hours. Until we hit the road again to see my family.

(I probably WILL get out of my PJ's for that chapel service. They would appreciate it if I showered.)

So until then, my schedule is packed. I have a few movies to watch and some random gifts to wrap and a nap to take. I haven't blogged in so long that I just realized I haven't even posted my birthday festivities pictures.

Where does the time go? Where did 2009 go? Now I sound like a granny.

By the way, Twinkles and Sparkles (or Adam and Gaga) are together at last. They have been lighting up the front yard the whole time we've been gone.

Merry Christmas Eve.

A Tale of Two Deer

It all started innocently enough. It always does.

The boy wanted more Christmas lights in the yard. "More" meaning brighter and tackier and flashier.

It doesn't help that we live in a neighborhood that would make Clark Griswold tear up and cry with jealousy. These people have some serious holiday lighting going on.
I don't know how they pay their power bills.

It makes our tasteful garland and tiny trees look just, well... downright scrooge-ish.

So in hopes of not disappointing the boy whose dad is 9000 miles away at the holidays and who deserves the bestest Christmas ever... (Can you tell I replay that over and over and over in my mind 85 times a day?)

We needed to buy more lights.

And reindeer.

You see... our good friends have an adorable little reindeer. He lights up and looks so sweet in the front yard. I start thinking,
"I can have a sweet little reindeer on my front lawn too!"

So I loaded up my single-mommy guilt and the boy and we headed out to tackify the yard.

First stop was the K. Where my friend purchased her reindeer. Where I promptly returned almost everything we picked out. Did you know that the "K" is much more expensive than the "W"? I had heard the rumors, but I rarely shop there. So... into the return line went our overpriced holiday decor.

(I will not even begin to discuss the "T" store. It is in a league all its own.)

And on to the big "W" I went. They had (almost) the exact same reindeer for $10 less.

So we bought two.

A boy and a girl. Or, a buck and a doe.

When we got home and unloaded our loot, we immediately sat down in the floor to put our little LED friends together.

I give you... the girl deer...



After putting her together, we made an unfortunate discovery.

Our little buck had no head.

He had a body, he had glittery antlers, he had a cute little tail.

He even lit up.

With no head.

It was just wrong.
So... Back into the box we crammed him. Back to the "W" he went.

The day I returned/exchanged him also happened to be my birthday. While others lounge at the spa or jet off to Paris for their birthday, I stand in line at the Mart and return a headless deer. Speaks volumes, don't ya think?

My deer-owning friend called me to wish me a happy birthday, and I told her what I was doing. She told me that HER deer was also experiencing technical difficulties. It's head wasn't lighting up anymore. Goodness. It's not a good year to be a plastic light-up Christmas deer.

So I suggested our deer get should get together, and that sparked another not-entirely appropriate conversation about Adam Lambert and Lady Gaga.

So now we have a new buck. He will be joining his doe as soon as we can get him put together.



And don't feel too sad for me... I had a GREAT birthday. There were phone calls and gifts and 2 meals out and cake... and more of that later. Everone should go to the Mart on their birthday. It'll keep you humble.

And I will post pictures of our holiday grandeur very soon.

As for the deer? The boy wants to name them Twinkles and Sparkles. I'm thinking Adam and Gaga.

Starting the Holiday Season... Take 2

If you are a friend of mine, or if you are a faithful blog reader, you know I didn't have the best "kick off" to "HOLIDAYS 2009." It all started with a cel phone in the washing machine and a 3 hour mini-vacation/come-to-Jesus meeting/why in the hoo-nanny do they do all this construction?/dead stop on I-85. NOT good times.

I am happy to report that (once we got there), things improved.

We had a nice Thanksgiving Day...



Turkey was consumed.



Football was played.



Cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents were visited.









Everyone (and I mean everyone!) got to chat with their favorite soldier... who called right before lunch. We passed the phone around, said the blessing, and then ate like piggies. After lunch, Uncle Tom tortured (drove) the boy and his cousin, Jacob. He took them over to see the stadium where the game was gonna be played the next day. Uncle Tom is an Auburn fan, and the two boys are Alabama fans, and they all had a great time harassing each other.

Then, it was time to hit the road (Lord save me) again.

On to South Carolina to celebrate with my family...

It is a much smaller crowd, but no less chaotic.


There was wild wrestling and running around.









There was also lots of eating... just not turkey. We all went to one of our favorite Italian restaurants... and ate like piggies.









The boy was able to tromp around the farm, do a little hunting, watch Alabama BARELY win the Iron Bowl, spend time with his grandparents, and run around the house with his cousin, Noah, like a wild banshee. (What is that, anyway?)

I hit the Black Friday sales with my sis-in-law and brother. The only grumpy/pushy person we encountered all day was my own brother. He actually didn't get that way until Hobby Lobby. He said we were "taking too long" and that he wouldn't have felt that way if it weren't the "THIRD CRAFT STORE OF THE DAY." (Emphasis his.)

There is no such thing as too many craft stores in one day. Especially not when ribbon is 70% off. What does he know?

Now we are home and deep in the trenches of hauling out the holly. The Christmas craziness has begun. I think there are about 43 different events this weekend alone.

But I have enough ribbon.