Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Shameless self promotion....

As you might know, a big reason I persevere with this blog is because I think it would be the coolest thing in the world to have, in writing, my mom's thoughts and stories of my childhood. Particularly since she died so young, I'd love to know if (or confirm that) I drove her crazy or made her laugh. I'd love to remember awesome trips we took or great birthday parties we had; and I'd love to get to know a younger me from the perspective of my (still) 43-year-old self. It's a gift I'm trying to leave my own kids.

To this end, I've often wanted to write a post about an amazing book club a friend of mine started when Caroline was in first grade. I want my daughter to always remember the afternoons we spent discussing fantastic books with our friends, and to actually have directions on how she could do the same thing with her kids.

Thanks to Twitter, I got to know Leah Lesser of Barefoot Books, and she inspired me to sit down and do it (and then take the scary step of sending it somewhere).

The product is on Mamalode's website today. Check it out!

Wednesday, February 19, 2014


There’s so much I should be writing about right now.

Like how I pulled my kids out of school and drove directly into the apocalyptic, epic snowstorm last week.

Like how I drove 90 miles an hour and literally allowed one stop – “PEE AND GET CHIPS” – on the seven-hour trip, all in an attempt to beat the snowstorm advancing from the south.

Like how I failed to beat it about an hour outside of Knoxville.

Like how I swung through the Knoxville airport and picked up my husband, stranded by the storm while on a business trip.

Like how we drove through white-out conditions, on r-e-a-l-l-y slippery mountain roads.

(Like why the only reason we did it was so that my husband could stand in his mother’s house on her 75th birthday, and call her on the phone to ask if our present had arrived. Like how she said no, and he suggested she check the kitchen. Like how the kids were standing in the kitchen with balloons, hopping up and down with the excitement of a killer and thoroughly unexpected surprise.)

Like how I let my kids sled down this:

On this (yes, they lived):


But I won’t go into detail about all that, because I just don’t have time.

Because we didn’t come home alone.

Because Lab Rescue texted me somewhere along the drive north.

And so this.

And this.

And the most bittersweet love in the entire world, because we still miss Bo(eing).

But we sure do love Piper.

(And, obviously, airplane names for dogs.)

So while she’s napping, I’ve got to run and do all the things I can’t do with a wide-awake puppy.

Like shower.

Or do laundry.

Or cook.

Or sleep.

So we'll chat later.

And I'll try very hard to keep the cute puppy pictures to a minimum.

Or at least restrict them to Twitter.

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Are you ready for some FOOTBALL??

My husband loves football.

In particular, he loves the Denver Broncos.

Whether they win, whether they lose, he cheers for them.

(He went to flight school in Colorado and swears he frequented a bar that was also frequented by John Elway. In guy-speak, enough said.)

The last time the Broncos went to the Superbowl, we had just thrown a Mexican-themed engagement party for some friends the Saturday night before. We watched the Superbowl wearing sombreros with the Margarita Man standing vigil next to us. (While the Margarita Man was actually a rented margarita machine, I think the mariachi band had found it overnight and was still hiding in the house somewhere.) (I think the guests had also found the Margarita Man, because now that I think about it, the cast of characters for the engagement party and the Superbowl party were one and the same.)

Ah, youth.

That was then. Like 15 years ago. This is now.

For some of us.

My thoughts are crystal clear: will the kids have done their homework? How late should I let them stay up? When can I prep the food? Who can I invite that will have to go home early to put their kids to bed? Who can I invite that won't make a mess? I can’t wait to see that cute puppy in the Budweiser ad. Will Whit remember to wake me up so I can watch the fourth quarter?

My husband’s thoughts are also, for the moment, crystal clear: barbeque. Beer. Chips. Who can I invite that won’t talk except during the commercials? Who can I invite that will not say one nice thing about the Seahawks? And where is that mariachi band when you need it? They could play the Broncos fight song. Is there a Broncos fight song? I need a Broncos flag. Wait, first I need a flagpole. Nah, I think I need a beer. Thinking of beer, what are the chances I can convince Julie to buy this to hold all that beer?

I give up. All you mariachi-playing, sombrero-wearing, tequila-swilling Broncos fans, I've got your soul mate right here. Just don't talk and you can sit next to him during the game.

I'll be upstairs in my pajamas. Yell when that cute commercial comes on.