Tuesday Tribute: My Mother-In-Law

Today is Tuesday, which means that Jay over at Halftime Lessons is doing the Tuesday Tribute. Because, as much as I want it to be, it's not all about me.


Today I decided to write about my Mother-In-Law. Her name is... well, following with the Peanuts theme, should I call her "wah-WAH, wah-WA-WA-wah"? No, I guess that would be the name for my kid's teachers. So, I'll just call her Peggy. After my very favorite Texan Woman, Peggy Hill. From King of the Hill. I never truly appreciated the humor and the truth of King of the Hill until I moved to Texas.

So, my mother Peggy, she's a wonderful woman for many reasons. First of all, she bore my husband. So, she's got that going for her. That's a pretty big deal in my book. Without her loins, there would be no fruit of her loins.

Secondly, she has never criticized me in the entire time I've known her. Never, not once. The closest she's ever come is... well, seriously I can't even think of a single time. Her method of disagreeing with me is to just not say anything and stay out of it. Even my own mother is not blessed with that talent.

Thirdly, she is an awesome Granny to my kids. Every single time she comes to visit, she brings some sort of project that they all can work on. Maybe it's those mugs with the paper inserts that the kids can decorate. Maybe it's some colorful clay that they mold into the shape of a candle holder then bake it to harden. Maybe it's one of those velvet posters with magic markers that I BEGGED my mom to get me as a kid, but always got the answer, "Not today... maybe next time." (Hey, that sounds familiar. Do I know someone who says that... Oh yeah, I DO!) But, whatever she brings, my kids would do it. They don't care if it's easy or hard, girlie or just fun. The important thing to them is that they have an adult totally focused on them and what they want and checking if they are having fun. No chores to do, no meals to make, no email to check. She has tunnel vision on them and their enjoyment.

Lastly, and this is just a little bit catty, but I love the fact that she's a horrible cook. It makes even my own cooking efforts shine in comparison. Trust me, I'm no Rachel Ray. But, growing up, my husband was a product of the "latchkey generation" and his mom always worked long hours. She would get home with little time to make dinner or even way past dinnertime. So her idea of dinner was Mac 'n Cheese and cut-up hot dogs. Or soup. I have days like that too but about half of the days each week I actually make something whose recipe is not written on the container. So, even when I have a rough day and I'm pooped and it takes all the strength I can muster to just boil up some Ramen Noodles and remove a few slices of deli meat from the container, my family is STILL happy.

I wish everyone had a mother-in-law like I do. I seriously do not have one single complaint about her. Except, maybe, that she doesn't live closer.

Yes, Hell Has Frozen Over. And I'm Doing A Meme.

I don't usually do memes because for some reason I think that I must come up with something completely original to talk about. Because, you know, my own thoughts must be SO much better than some regurgitated Q&A session...

Well, nothin' original swimming around in THIS brain. So, here we go.

Got this meme from Bridgett at South City Musings.Thanks for helping me get over the blogger's block.


What is your current obsession? getting the spots out of my carpet

Good brunch place? I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a meal out. Sure I've been out but enjoy it? With 4 kids? One of whom is a toddler? Uh, no.

Do you nap a lot? I think it's a throwback to my childhood that napping was considered lazy, so I can't shake the feeling that napping is somehow sinful. My pastor husband loves showing me how wrong I am.

So, no, I don't nap a lot. Maybe twice a year.

Who was the last person you hugged? Linus, to tell him I loved him (His response: "No you don't." Ah, ain't motherhood grand?)

What’s for dinner? Hot dogs, spaghetti-o's, applesauce, slices of Velveeta, and milk. Yes, I suck at cooking THAT much.

What was the last thing you bought? Gas. Before that, lime green flip-flops for Charlie Brown at Six Flags (today) because his shoes broke and we walked around Six Flags for about an hour before we could stop and find a store that would sell him some footwear.

What are you listening to right now? Linus getting up out of bed after I have threatened and begged him to stay under his covers.

What is your favorite weather? Sunny, about 85 degrees, slight breeze.

What’s on your bedside table? A bible, lamp, box of Kleenex, couple of TV remotes, spool of thread and a needle.

Say something to the person/s who tagged you. I'm coming to St. Louis this summer. Wanna meet up for coffee? Or diet Coke?

If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished anywhere in the world, where would you want it to be? Maybe somewhere near a beach. But then you have to deal with hurricanes. Maybe in St. Louis or southern IL. Lots of places I think I will love even though I've never been there, simply because people have described them so beautifully. I'd love to have a simple house but a lot of land and maybe a pond.

Favorite vacation spot? Theoretical or actual? Theoretical: Ireland. Actual: Ft. Myers, FL.

Name the things you can’t live without. Hershey's Kisses, diet Coke, resale shops.

What would you like to have in your hands right now? my new camera. I returned the new camera to Best Buy and instead I'm going to get the EXACT same new camera from a local store because they will give me a free photography class and $10 of free photo developing every month for a year. That's $170 worth of stuff. Plus they actually know how to work the cameras and will help me if I need it. BUT they are all sold out now and I've got one on order.

What is your favorite tea flavor? Iced? I don't really drink tea.

What would you like to get rid of? All. My. Husband's. Fishing. Crap.

If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go? A spa, for a massage.

What did you want to become as a child? A stripper, until I found out that it's not okay to take your clothes off in front of people (they always wear shiny clothes and get lots of attention! It looked fun!) Then I wanted to be a doctor, but I don't really like science. Then I wanted to be a chef. Then I wanted to be a teacher (at about age 8)... and I became a teacher.

What do you like better, e-mail or telephone calls? Telephone because I get the immediate response.

What is your favorite sport to play? swimming.

What was your favorite concert you attended? Sting with Lyle Lovett opening, at Riverport Amphitheater. Attended with an awesome friend. Very memorable.

What is one thing that will ALWAYS make you smile? This joke: How do you make a Kleenex dance? YOU PUT A LITTLE BOOGIE IN IT!!! (I loved that joke as a kid and so do my own kids. It's so funny and so non-offensive. The perfect balance.)


Okay, if you want to participate in the meme, just copy the questions and tweak them to make them your own. You can tag people... I just want to say, whoever likes this meme you can consider yourself tagged.

What's Your Idea of Fun?

I think we can all describe "fun" by what we learned as kids and what makes us happy as adults. What, if given limitless time and resources, would you do?

Maybe a better way to pose the question would be this: what do you think you could do every single day for the rest of your life? When I think of "fun", there are lots of things that spring to mind, but many of those activities (shopping, cooking, gardening) run their course of being fun and then I'm ready to move onto the next activity.

Last night I watched a documentary for probably the 6th time. I've seen it on the Discovery Channel, TLC, and now I've seen it on PBS. Every time I watch it, this movie captures my attention.

The documentary is all about hand-fishing. It's called Okie Noodling, directed by Brad Beesley.

If you don't know what hand-fishing is, let me tell you: you catch fish with your hands. Period. No string, no rod or reel, no bait, no hook. Most "noodlers" catch flathead catfish, and they do it by sticking their hand into an underwater catfish hole and wait for the catfish to bite their hand. Then they basically grab the catfish by the mouth and yank the catfish out of its hole. The fish can be a typical size, like about 3-4 pounds and 12 inches long. However, most noodlers like to get 'em big. We're talking 40, 50, 60 pounds, and at least 42 inches long. HELLO that's like fishing for a Kindergartener.

Director Brad Beesley has now released a sequel, Okie Noodling 2, and here's a link for the trailer. (Please click the link to get an appreciation for what these guys do. It's amazing.)

Lots of the guys who noodle say that they love working with their hands. The men who were interviewed in Okie Noodling were janitors, garbage truck drivers, and plumbers, and they all love their work. They all said they actually PREFER it because they get to get their hands dirty every day. And, they all were in agreement when they said that noodling is the kind of sport that appeals to people who aren't afraid to get dirty.

Now, I know I will NEVER go noodling. Hell, I can't stand to look for my car keys - I sure as anything ain't gonna go feeling around for a fish that's half the size of me so it can latch onto my arm and bite me. No thanks. But the overwhelming feeling I got from all the footage of the documentary is that these people were having so much fun. They loved what they did. It was the thing in their lives that they look forward to. They all said that they will probably go noodling forever. And, while I think it's all a bit too redneck for me, I love also how unpretentious it is. No flashy equipment to buy. No special outfit to wear. No big resort to stay at. Just simple fun. And, another really cool part came when I heard about how the guys all got into it - their dads all taught them. And they are teaching their own sons (and daughters, if the girls want to.) It is becoming a family event... and how many things do we do nowadays where we actively participate with our children? I'm not talking about standing on the bleachers while our kids are running back and forth after a ball. I'm talking about an activity where both dad and son can say, "We did that together." It's all very cool.

And, I'll secretly admit, although I live in the big 'ole Metroplex, there is a big part of this girl who wants to go back to all things redneck. I have eaten rabbit and squirrel and pheasant, all caught by my husband. I've seen a deer strung up in our backyard after hunting season. I've gone to many wedding receptions at the VFW hall. I can't even count how many times I've been around men who chew tobacco and spit it at random times and in random locations. I've walked in cow manure, I've eaten vegetables that were harvested less than an hour before, and I've sat next to men at church whose "sunday best" was a clean pair of denim overalls. Being a redneck isn't a derogatory term... it's a way to describe people who work hard outside for a living, all day long, and like to enjoy the simple things of life. Usually rednecks are people who live in the country and make their living by farming, but I guess rednecks could be construction workers, ditch diggers, or truck drivers.

So, whether these guys are called "noodlers", "rednecks", "hoosiers", or whatever, I think they don't care as long as you let them leave early on Saturday morning and come back after the sun sets and they've grabbed their limit.

Got Me Thinking...

So, yesterday I wrote about the site Stuff White People Like. Many of you confirmed what I already believed - it is just tongue in cheek humor about the stereotypes of White People, ahem, I mean Euro-Americans.

But all this has got me thinking...

When I was a kid, I heard and also repeated dozens of Polack jokes. I didn't think there was anything wrong with them because my parents told them all the time. As a kid, I didn't know any better. Or, maybe as a kid, there wasn't the PC stigma of telling jokes about a person's heritage. Yes, in today's society this would be considered terribly offensive.

Would it make a difference if I told you that my Grandmother was an immigrant from Poland?

How about this: You hear a man making jokes about gay people, no one specific, just gay people as a group. Stuff like "interior decorator" and "loves Broadway plays" and "a girl's best friend." You think this is completely offensive until he tells you, "Well, I'm gay, so it's okay to just poke fun at myself."

Or, like the Seinfeld episode where Jerry's dentist, Tim Watley, converted to Judaism, but Jerry held out that Dr. Watley only joined the faith so that he could openly make Jewish jokes without apology. But when Jerry made jokes about dentists, he was called an "Anti-Dentite." I laugh just typing it.



So this makes me ask: are we ever going to lighten up? Be less sensitive? As intelligent adults, are we able to laugh about our own weaknesses and poke fun at ourselves? Because I think it's a tough line to figure out. Where will it be crossed? Let's see... I'm part Irish, part German, part Polish, Caucasian, a woman, a blond, a stay-at-home mom, and a female driver. How many jokes could be made about me? And, some of those jokes form out of ignorance and hate but some of them are based on actual observances. I swear, every time I'm trying to change lanes and the car in the next lane speeds up and practically mows me down instead of just letting me in - it's a woman driver. And yes, I know I'm one too. But that's my point. Are we all going to spend an increasing amount of time and energy getting offended by other people's comments about us? Or, hopefully, will be get to the point where if the only thing damaged is our egos, can't we just let it all roll off our backs like water off a duck?

Of course, I understand that spreading hate is not okay. But, really, how much of those comments are hate? And how much are they people just wanting to laugh?

And why are some jokes okay but others are not? Why would it be laughable to be offended by a blond joke? But what if someone told a blond joke, then next called someone a "retard"? Or identified someone with a racial slur? So, some stereotypes are okay to make fun of, but some are off-limits? Don't stereotypes have equal access to the joke pool?

Here's my vote: set up a call center of 1-800-OK-JOKES (this will create jobs! Go economy!!) for people to call in and ask "Is this joke alright to tell in mixed company?" And the person on the other end could answer, "Yes" or "No" or "Change the punch line to "I told you it was EAR wax!" (Think of the old commercials for TBS - where people called in to see if their situation was very funny, marginally funny, or not funny at all. Same concept).

We've upped the offensiveness quotient. But hey, we've created a few jobs!

Am I Just Too Stupid To Figure This Out?

There's a funny blog called Stuff White People Like.

And, I swear I am not an idiot. I'm not all book-smarts and no street-smarts. I successfully passed the "Test your IQ vs. Paris Hilton" pop-up screen.

But, what's up with that site? Is it supposed to be tongue-in-cheek fun? Or is it seriously dedicated to stuff that white people like? (Hey, don't forget - call them "Euro-Americans." Let's all try to be more racially sensitive).

Angry

I like to consider myself a person who treats my children nicely. With respect. As I'd want to be treated myself.

But many days, more so recently, I'm not filling the bill as much as I would like to. As a matter of fact, I'm rather ashamed of the things I say and do to my own children.

Now, don't go calling Child Protective Services on me. I don't think my words or actions would be what anyone would consider abuse. I've never called my children stupid, I've never told them to shut up. I only spank them with fair warning (as in "if you go into the street, you will get a spank" which is followed with an explanation before the swat.) But, in my mind, I know that I would be fuming mad at anyone who spoke to my kids the very way I have been doing for most of their Spring Break (this past week).

I could give you a laundry list of the comments I have spat at them, in tones much too loud for the simple confines of our minivan. Suffice it to say, they made my kids hang their heads in shame or even come to tears. These sweet, good-natured, polite children are having their self-esteem chipped away daily by the very person with whom they should feel safest. That's how it feels to me, anyway.

"Why don't you listen?!?!"
"He's your brother! Your flesh and blood! You should be nicer to him than to your silly school friends!!"
"That's it. I'm done being nice to you all."
"Quit being so annoying!!"
"You are old enough to do it yourself!!"
"Can't ANYONE help me here???"
"IF YOU KNOW WHAT MAKES ME MAD, THEN DON'T DO IT!!!"

The anger is like a monster that I keep trying to push down inside me, but the harder I push the harder it pushes back. And, when the smallest thing sets me off, POW! There it is. And it doesn't matter at whom it's directed. Young or old, male or female. My anger is an equal-opportunity emotion.

I'm shocked and appalled at myself that I treat my own children like this. I've said before, how many times can I apologize to my kids for getting angry before the words are just lip service? I know lots of parents get mad at their kids, but I don't want to make myself feel better by comparing myself to someone who treats their kids even worse than I do mine.

Hmm, re-reading this post, I hope I'm not coming off as a person who goes into an uncontrollable rage and starts going psycho. Not at all. I just get frustrated easily. But I'm just saying that my patience threshold is getting lower and lower. I can easily see how people get to the point of beating their children. I don't mean that I condone it! I mean, I think I comprehend how the disconnect happens from thought to action. Here's what I mean: I don't know if beating your children is so much a conscious choice as much as it may be that you have seriously left your mind and are just acting in a primal way. Fight or flight, and since we can't escape our children, the fight instinct kicks in. Again, please understand that I don't even spank my kids any more... that is the punishment carried out by their dad... but I can understand the mental decline of folks who take discipline too far. I have it very squarely in my mind that laying my hand on my child to help ME release my own anger is wrong. I would never cross that boundary. But for some people who don't realize that they are about to cross that boundary, it becomes a very slippery, relentless, slope.

So. Back to school tomorrow. Probably the best thing in the world for my kids. Summer will be here soon and I think I am actually a little better prepared for summer than spring break, because it's like I'm bracing myself for 3 months of nit-picking, bickering, arguing, fighting, begging, crying, whining, etc. But on Spring Break I just forget that I'll have the kids all to myself for a whole week and so I haven't psyched myself up for the battle.

I just get so sad. I want my children to get along well but I really feel like I simply don't possess the skills to teach them how. I'm a big believer in giving kids specific instructions. Like, don't say "Be nice to her." Instead, say "Tell her why you like to play with her, and she will tell you what is most handsome about you." That type of thing. If I could just figure out how to get my kids to not push each other's buttons and just to be a little more easy-going, I think I would be able to deal with the occasional bickering a little better.

Until then, maybe I should just put on a housecoat and put my hair in rollers and wear no bra. Then, people probably wouldn't even bat an eye at my behavior.

Best Buy Don't Fail Me Now

So... I got my camera. SQUEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But, in true form of myself, I am too afraid to open it and test it out. I feel like I will be violating the threshold of its "newness". I have bought lithium batteries for it... I have a 4gig memory card... all ready to go. Now all I need to do is turn it on...

So when I went to Best Buy on Friday to get my camera, which was on sale, the sales guy told me about their restocking fee of 15% if I should choose to return the camera once it has been opened. I asked, "But what if I just don't like the camera after all, even if there's nothing wrong with it?" to which he replied, "That is what the restocking fee is for. That's why I asked you if you had any questions about the camera." (me? I tend to try the product out and THEN formulate the questions... like, how to I take a picture?... that sort of thing) Well, I contemplated for a brief moment to just ditch the whole thing and go home empty handed. But I was too far into the situation now. The camera was in my hand. The cash was burning a hole in my pocket. I literally handed $388.79 over to him and walked out with my camera.

But all day, I kept having this niggling feeling of fear, that I wouldn't like the camera and I'd end up being stuck with it. So what that I'd visited the amazon.com site and read reviews and in over 400 reviews the lowest mark it got was 3 stars, with a huge majority of reviewers giving it 5 stars? So what if Dorsey had let me play with her camera, the exact same model? So what if Canon is a premier name in photo equipment? I mean, I like to at least have the option of returning. And, you know who does great returns? Yes, Wal-Mart.

So, I went back to Best Buy to return my COMPLETELY UNOPENED camera. And, I was honest: I want to return it because I don't like the restocking fee policy. Well, Craig (Customer Service Dude) told me, "We don't have a restocking fee."
TM: "Uh, the photo salesman told me that you do. 15%."
CSD:"Well, we used to but we don't anymore. It's okay. You can open it and try it and if you don't like it just bring it back within 14 days."
TM: "You look like a nice guy and I'm sure you're VERY believable. But right here on the back of the receipt it says, 'RESTOCKING FEE - 15%.' So I'm sure you can understand why I am concerned that I will go home, open my box, not like the camera, then bring it back and Bob, some other Customer Service Dude, will say, 'I don't know who Craig is and yes of course we have a restocking fee.'"
CSD: "That's not going to happen. See, Best Buy is testing out, in some markets, to get rid of the restocking fee. Our district is one market they're trying it on. So, you're safe."
TM (The perennial what-iffer): "Uh, okay, sure. But just to be safe, can you please write on the back of my receipt, "There is no restocking fee.' and sign your name? Yeah, right there, next to the place where it says 'RESTOCKING FEE 15%'. Yeah, that's great."
CSD: "Okay, you should have no problems now. And, batteries are right over there. You know it takes 4 double-A's right?"

And so, all's well that ends well. I hope. I am going to save the big deflowering of my new camera for Monday at about noon, when the house will be blissfully quiet with 3 kids at school and one baby down for a nap.

The View From Inside the Fishbowl

When I was little, I lived and breathed to be the center of attention. I would do all kinds of crazy stuff - sometimes dangerous, sometimes embarrassing - just to be on center stage. You can practice armchair psychology on me (go ahead, I've done it to myself) and say that I didn't get enough attention from my parents when I was young. Really? I think I was just a ham.

As I grew up, my desire to be in the limelight didn't change but my methods did. As a school-age kiddo I tried to be the over-the-top-perfect student. When I realized there was always someone a little more perfect than me, I did a 180 and became the smart-alack slacker who misbehaved in class. Secretly I wanted to be perfect but just didn't have the time to put in the effort.

Then, in college, I realized that sometimes it's not so great being the person that everyone has heard of. The person that everyone has a preconceived idea about. The person who, upon mention of her name, has a judgment passed upon her simply because of the gossip that has preceded her. It wasn't so much fun anymore to be the center of attention.

Now, I am a pastor's wife. Well, not actually now because Texan Papa has taken another job with church ministry which has taken him out of parish work. But, this year has been the first year in as long as I can remember that my husband has not been my Pastor. And, being the leader of a congregation is like being a celebrity or an elected official in this way: everything you do, everything you say, and everywhere you go is analyzed under a microscope and discussed by people whose business is none of their own.

All the years that I was a "Pastor's Wife" and mother to the "Pastor's Kids" were different than anything I'd ever experienced. Some PW's talk about the pressure to behave a certain way, say particular things, and fit a pre-determined mold of what a "typical" Pastor's Family should be. I'm really blessed that my husband never expected me to be anything except myself. If I wanted to join or lead any church activities, it would be because that's what *I* wanted. I went on Pastor's Wives' retreats and listened to women talk about the burden of being the Choir Director, or the Preschool Superintendent, or the head of the Women's League. All that talk just baffled me... I kept asking myself, Why don't those women just politely say "No, Thank You" when that position is offered to them?

But, being inside the fishbowl I have to say that the view is pretty nice. People automatically treat us differently... in a good way. Upon moving to each new town, we found the fridge of our new home stocked with ready-made meals and fresh produce. People were eager to help us unload our moving truck. Folks always made sure to speak to us at church or out in public. And, speaking of public, all I'd have to say is "My husband is the Pastor of our Church" and it was like an automatic vote of confidence. No ID when writing a personal check? No problem! Don't have enough cash? That's okay, just take your things and bring back the money when you've got it. Need to borrow some tools? Sure, just get 'em back to me whenever you're done. In theory, we should ALL treat each other like this. But in the real world today, it's easier said than done.

Now that my husband is not in Parish Ministry anymore, I miss the fish bowl. When we go to church now, we're just another family among many. When Christmas comes around, no one gives us a plate of home-made cookies or a tin of fudge. No one invites us over to their house for Easter brunch. We're back to being just ... normal.

Which is okay. Normal has its benefits, too. I can correct my kids at the store and people just think I'm regular old white trash. They don't even waste their time gossiping about me during coffe hour anymore.

Keep Your Sanity This Spring Break

This is a post that was published about a month ago on another site, Moms By Heart. I wrote it while the blog author was away and needed a guest post. I'm reposting here because I thought the timing was good, for Spring Break. Enjoy your time with your family!

CHEAP ENTERTAINMENT

When my kids were little, I didn’t think too much about the cost of having them. I mean, they didn’t eat too much, I bought most of their clothes at garage sales or consignment shops, and everyplace we went that required admission was always free for young children. Well, as they say, the honeymoon’s over…

Now my kids are 9, 7, 6, and 16 months. Sending our kids to a private school pretty much bleeds our bank account. So, when summer finally rolls around, the kids look at me longingly for fun activities to keep them busy. Hey, I’m all for keeping them entertained, but… I don’t want it to send us into debt. Every time we go to the pool, BANG! $30 bucks. When we go to Six Flags, BANG! $180 bucks just to get in the gate (and that’s WITH a coupon!). The zoo? BANG! Art Museum? BANG! Even the Ice Cream man with his jolly music-playing van? BANG!

So, after all these BANGS left my wallet practically dead, I needed to find a way to get more BANG for my BUCK.

Creative (and cheap) Ways to Keep Kids Entertained

This is by no means an exhaustive list, but these are just some of the things I have come up with in my years as a penny-pinching, fun-loving mama:

Look for Coupons. EVERYWHERE. – Many free publications (the ones in stacks near the door of the supermarket) have coupons in them, if you’re willing to look. I’ve found the best deals in the free parenting magazines. And if you find a good coupon, pick up more than one magazine and clip all the coupons! I also find coupons in the famous blue Val-Pak, the Money Mailer, and the circulars that come in the mail every week. Don’t forget to look online.
Just Gotta Have Faith – Churches are a great place to find free fun, and you don’t have to be a member to enjoy yourself. Every summer, churches will host events like carnivals, ice cream socials, picnics, and craft fairs and they invite people from the community. They WANT to see new faces. And, as a bonus, these places quite often have special activities geared just towards the under 12 crowd.
Think Exercise – What’s a creative way to get your kids up and moving? One activity I (as well as my kids) used to love is to make an indoor obstacle course. I’d set up chairs to crawl underneath, ribbons to walk on for a “tightrope walk” and paper plates to hop onto. Other ideas for keeping active: have a headstand contest, learn the crab walk, play follow the leader.
Keeping it clean – Wash your car at home with the help of your kids. Let them wash their bikes and scooters. Get a sprayer nozzle and let the kids wash the side of the house.
Go watch sports events of local teams – You don’t have to pay for the big ticket of major-league teams. Go see a minor-league baseball team play. Or, check out a collegiate team from the local college or university. And, don’t forget to support your little-league players too! At lots of these events you are allowed to bring your own concessions, so don’t worry about paying for a $5 hot dog or a $4 soda – just bring your own cooler!
Look for free/cheap community events – Our local library shows a recently released kids movie one Saturday each month. Our old pool gave 25-cent admission on the 25th of the month throughout the summer. The Art Museum has free admission on Tuesdays after 4pm. Even the local Children’s Museum is free on Friday evenings. Just bear in mind that the crowds will be bigger at these times, so plan to have an extra set of eyes watching your flock!
Take a class – Lowe’s and Home Depot offer free Children’s Workshop classes. Kids get to build stuff with their own hands and the store provides all the materials free of charge. They are usually held on Saturday afternoons. You can also check out the local community college offerings. Many will provide special one- or two-day classes on topics like bugs or photography.
Camps – Check out the Parks & Rec Department – I swear, there is no better value for your dollar than camps offered through your local Parks & Rec. Usually the camps are day-camps with a theme, like Nature Camp or Patriotic Week or Arts & Crafts week. The cost is always reasonable (we send our kids for $30 each – that’s six hours a day for 5 days! And they get a t-shirt too!) Also, most churches will hold a Vacation Bible School, which is like day camp in a church environment. You don't need to be a member of that church to attend. It is always free and the kids can go from one church to another, attending as many different camps as they like. VBS is usually a week long, for a half-day each week.
Be creative at home – What are you recycling this week? Pull it out and – voila! It is your child’s canvas for his next masterpiece. Give him some paint and an old cereal box or 2-liter bottle and let his imagination go. Or, use that 2-liter bottle to build a terrarium. And, one of my all-time favorite home activities is to plant a garden. The cost for seeds, and the return on your investment, is immeasurable. Plus, a kid learns that tomatoes come from the ground, not from the supermarket.
Imaginative play – Got a hairbrush & barrette? Play “Beauty Salon”. Got some band-aids? Play “hospital”. Got some paper plates? Play “restaurant”. Got any books? Play “library”. Got any envelopes? Play “post office”.
Scouting – Talk about bang for your buck, the cost for a year of scouting can’t be beat. The Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts alike are organizations that teach responsibility and values while providing opportunities for friendship, leadership, and personal growth. The cost is next to nothing (usually less than $50 annually), and the den or troop will meet regularly throughout the whole year. Can you think of another organization that keeps children engaged for 1-2 hours every week, for only about $5 a month?

These are only a few ideas. The real secret is to keep your eyes and ears open. Don’t be lazy and just fall into what’s easy. BUT also don’t blow all your ideas the very first week of summer vacation. Store them up and spread them out. And allow yourself to splurge on the ice-cream truck every once in a while!

Today

Today I become part of the millions of people around the world who have lost a loved one to cancer.

Today Brian, the husband of my very dear friend Angie, lost his battle with brain cancer. He loved and was loved by so many people. He was an amazing husband, father, son, brother, uncle, and friend.

Today the world is a little less bright because Brian is no longer with us.

Today our Lord Jesus Christ welcomes Brian home to Him with a loving embrace.

While I rejoice that Brian is with his Heavenly Father, and no longer suffering the pain of his body's decline, I also feel an obvious sadness. I will miss Brian. This is a guy who I never heard say a cross word to his wife, never raise his voice to his children, never treat anyone with anyone but love and respect. Every time I entered their home, Brian never treated me like a guest; he treated me like family.

So, while I was certainly blessed to know him, I am devastated to face the loss that Angie must bear. I have this weird sense of wanting to protect her, like a mama bear and her bear cub. I want to do something to make her pain bearable. I want to say something really profound that will stay with her and lift her up when she's alone.

But really? There's nothing I can do. Nothing anyone can do. And that is a really helpless feeling.

So, I will continue to do the only thing she's ever asked me to do. I will pray. And, as always, I will KEEP BELIEVING.

I Love What I (Don't) Have

This week is spring break for my kids. I have only one thing to say:

Any thought I ever entertained about "yeah, maybe I could homeschool... if it's what's best for the kids..." is completely out the window. If anything, it is like a cruel taunt to remind me that in a few short months I will not only have the kids at home alone with me, but it will be for a hell of a lot longer than a measly week.

SO. Charlie Brown and Linus just happen to have some very best friends from school who are the same ages as them and are also brothers. On Sunday, I arranged a playdate for my boys to go over to those boys' house. BUT our boys happen to be grounded from computer until Easter, and from TV until Wednesday. Long stories, not very flattering, to save some face I will not share the details. Anyway. I told the mom, "Listen, here's the deal: They are grounded from computer and TV. So, if our kids come over they won't be able to play with those things. Do you still want to have them over and then they can do other things? Or would you prefer we reschedule until our kids are ungrounded?" Her answer: "Uh... I'll have to ask the boys. I don't know... we're not really 'toy' people. We do lots of outdoor stuff but don't have too many toys."

My first reaction: What does that mean, "not 'toy' people"? Do they not have toys? Like, Legos and Nerf guns and board games? And, if they are into outdoor stuff, wouldn't it be easy to get away from the computer/tv/DS/Wii? And, OH MY WORD what have we, as a modern society, come to that we actually need to pause to consider whether or not we can have fun with children for 2.5 hours without TV or computers?

Let me back up and say, that the last time I went over to their house to pick up the boys, one was on a laptop while one of their boys was on another laptop and they were playing some game together, while my other son was on a game boy and their other son was on a DS. They hardly even noticed me enter the room. I had to threaten them within an inch of their lives to get them to leave. It was a little disturbing watching that scene play back in my head.

But, if nothing else, it made me really glad that we don't have all that stuff. I am in NO way telling people that they shouldn't have a Wii, or a Playstation, or 9257 cable channels, or an iPhone, or a Palm Pilot or any of that fun techie stuff. After all, we have our own share of high-tech items in the Texan Household. But seeing this family and the obvious affect it had on the kids, made me realize how easy it is to lose sight of the hold these things can have over us.

When we moved here last year, I was SO excited to get high-speed internet. It might have been the VERY first priority I had when moving into the house. I believe I had the DSL hooked up before I unpacked the dishes. Before this, we just had dial-up. It is a recent-enough memory to serve as a warning to me to NEVER live somewhere ever again where high-speed internet isn't available. So, the idea of putting the internet on a phone? I'm all "What fer?" I am so thrilled to just HAVE high-speed internet that I don't push my luck by getting it on my phone. Plus, to afford a phone that has internet capability? Well, let's just say, it doesn't exactly fit into the Texan Financial Plan for '09.

I certainly want for better things. It would be unnatural to never covet your neighbors' possessions. But, the thing I crave most of all, is a sense of satisfaction. I don't really want things as much as I want to NOT want things. Does that make sense? The balance between wanting things and needing things and acquiring things is a constant struggle with me, but one I hope I am winning more than losing. I am (usually) happy with all of our second-hand furniture. I am (sometimes) satisfied with our two vehicles. And, as I'm finding out by my recent quest to save up enough money to buy a new camera, it feels really great to work towards a goal and earn it, rather than getting something on a selfish whim, then trying to muster up the enjoyment for it afterward. I've done that in the past and I've learned the hard way that the stuff I just HAD to have usually ends up in a garage sale pile.

I think the whole concept of delayed gratification is lost. Does anyone even practice it anymore? And if they do, don't their friends look at them like, "What's wrong with you? Just charge it. Get it now. If you want it, you should treat yourself!"

Ugh. That's a whole 'nother post waiting to happen.

So, am I the only one who ever asks herself, "How in the HELL did I ever survive before we had cell phones? How did I function without email? How did we know what to do with ourselves when we only had one car for a family of 3 people?"

Now, don't freak out. I'm not about to sell my minivan or live off what we grow in the garden or turn Amish. I just keep wondering... when will we cross the threshhold of "more technology than is really good for us" ? Or have we already crossed it?

Turn It On

Am I the only person who does her regular shopping after 10pm? I like to go after my little angels have all gone to sleep at night, when I can string together two thoughts in one sitting. You see, the idea of taking all 4 children to the grocery store is nightmarish enough. Add to that a weekly ad flyer that has specific items on sale. Add to that about 3 or 4 crucial coupons that are about the size of a postage stamp. Add to that a half-dozen cloth bags that I must remember to bring into the store with me. Add to THAT a frequent shopper card.

That's one scary addition problem.

So, tonight I was driving to Tom Thumb and Albertsons to get my weekly grocery deals. Of course, Tom Thumb was completely out of 75% of the things that were on sale. Now I'll have to go back tomorrow which is just a chaotic headache waiting to happen. Anyhoo, I am turning out of my subdivision and notice a car driving really slow. I am thinking, this is either an old person who can't see to drive at night, or it's a drunk driver. Either way, I'm in the pole position to get broadsided in 5.... 4.... 3.... 2.... 1.... and then the person turns. Onto the street that I'm on.

This makes my blood boil. Why, you ask?

No blinker.

What is so flippin hard about putting on your blinker asshat? Are your fingers just too exhausted from texting while driving? Or maybe you've pulled a ligament from flipping someone the bird? WHAT? Please tell me so that I may know why you're so opposed to making your dashboard do the little blink-ah-blink-ah-blink-ah.

I mean, occasionally I like to live on the edge too. So I guess "not turning on my turn signal" might rank up there with "bungee jumping" and "swimming with sharks". Is that it? You like to live dangerously? Live each day, moment to moment?

Turn on your blinker, people. I'm begging you. Or I might have to unleash my children on you the next time we're all in the sugared cereal aisle together.

And, while you're at it, for the love of all that is holy, turn off your bright lights when driving in town. On roads with a 35 mph speed limit. With tons of other cars on the road too. YOU ARE BLINDING US ALL.

Petty Much?

So, I've jumped on the bandwagon. I'm going to participate in one of these writing prompt thingamabobs. I figure, my tank of interesting subjects is nearing "E" so I should probably go trolling the internet for ideas rather than repel any remaining readers that I still have with my random thoughts spewed out at their expense.

So, Mama Kat. The Writing Assignment. Here it goes.

The Prompts:
2.) Tell about a time you hurt somebody that still bothers you to this day.

Have you ever hurt someone unintentionally, and feel tons of remorse about it? But then the person does something and you realize what an asshat they are and then you don't feel quite so bad?

Well, this story isn't anything like that. Because the person I hurt was not an asshat. She was one of my very best friends in the world. And, after I hurt her, you know what she did? She didn't rub my face in it. She didn't call me out. She didn't even mention it at all. And, when I finally got around to owning up to my stupidity and apologizing, know what she did? She forgave me and told me how much she loved me. Which is why, I think, it is so hard for me to forgive myself. When I hurt someone, or do something less than kind, I would certainly EXPECT him or her to get angry or sad, and for those emotions to be directed at me. That would be logical, right? But when a person you hurt shows you MERCY and GRACE, the person LOVES THEIR ENEMY, after you slap their cheek they TURN AND OFFER THE OTHER CHEEK TO YOU, it is very hard to walk away feeling any better than a turd.

Back in high school in 1986, I met my future soul-mate, Angie. And by soul-mate, I don't mean my romantic love. I mean the person every woman can relate to: the other woman who is the peanut butter to her jelly. The Thelma to her Louise. The "see ya later alligator" to her "after while crocodile". We just ...clicked. That's the way I remember it, anyway. We were on cheerleading together. We dated best friends. We spent the night at each others' houses. We went to school dances together, sometime double-dating and sometimes going stag together. We went on family vacations with each other's families. We had a ton of fun.



When we went to different colleges, we tried to keep in touch, but we were both really excited to start the new chapter of our lives on different campuses. Our relationship kinda got put on the backburner and went forgotten. Phone calls grew further and further apart. Eventually we didn't really see each other. We reconnected senior year, and I kicked myself for wasting all those years without her. She was an incredible friend and seeing her after a few years was like I had just seen her yesterday. The connection never died, it just needed a little CPR.

After college, and a few different jobs, and a few different moves to new cities, Angie was getting married to her college sweetheart, Brian. I was thrilled for her. Until she told me who was going to be in her wedding. And it wasn't going to be me.

Ouch. I was hurt. And a bit spiteful. There was one person in particular in the bridal party whom I'd never even met. Why did SHE warrant a spot in the line-up and I didn't even get to be "guest book attendant" or anything? I mean, WHAT THE HELL?

So, how did I handle it? Not very well. On the day of the wedding, in classic Catholic style, Angie and Brian got married in the morning but had the reception later that evening. So, for the "in-between time" I was invited to come to her Aunt & Uncle's house where the rest of the family and wedding party were gathering. I felt completely welcome and at ease there. My high school years were spent around this family. I knew them well. At the party, Angie's uncle said to me, "I know it means a lot to Angie that you came to the wedding." My response? "Yeah, but not so much to put me in the wedding party."

It pains me to write those words. To admit that I actually said that. It's very very shameful.

The uncle (I think) tried to console me with, "No I'm sure she cares for you very much." Blah Blah Blah I was too filled with my petty and selfish feelings to hear any of it.

And, within 6 months, I was planning my own wedding. I found out what goes on in a bride's mind when choosing her bridesmaids. I learned, for the first time, to face the idea of including or excluding someone from this huge event in my life. I thought about Angie, and as much as I loved her, how we really HAD been out of each other's lives for a long time. I was torn: I felt like maybe I should include her in the bridal party just to show her how sorry I was. I also felt like not doing that because she would see right through it and tell me straight out that while she would be flattered and my intentions may be honorable, it was a crappy reason to include someone. I cared for her so much, but ultimately there were other friends who I was closer with at the time. So I didn't ask her to be in the wedding. (BTW of course she was invited, and came.)

Before my wedding day came, I apologized to Angie for what I had said. Actually, I had to first TELL her what I said (that was even harder), THEN apologize. Her uncle had shared with her what I'd said at the party, but she kept it to herself. She responded to my apology in a manner that can only be described as ladylike. Classy. Christian. Humble. She wasn't mad, she didn't scold me for my remarks, she didn't even try to offer up her feelings about it. I can only assume she was very hurt. But she let me come to her and ask her for forgiveness. And she gave it to me.

Like I said, it's easier to get over yourself when you've hurt someone if you feel like they got their chance to be mad, air their grievances, and have their say. But when you're given love that you don't deserve, I think it's hard to allow yourself to accept it.

Stuff I Don't Get (SIDG) - Cycle 9

Again, more Stuff I Don't Get. To see other installments, click here or here or here or here or here or here or here or here

damn, apparently there is a LOT of stuff I don't get. Should really consider buying World Book Encyclopedia Online Edition...

For today, ponder this:

Why, at the drive-up ATM, are there raised braille dots on the buttons? I mean, if you can't see the ATM buttons that are like 18 inches from your nose, do you really have any business driving an automobile on the open roads? I'm not talking about the walk-up ATM's, I'm talking about the drive-up ATM's. Even if they're driving a bicycle. Hell, even if they're driving a Hover-round with an orange flag shooting up 6 feet into the sky, should they really be navigating ANYTHING???

And, yes, I know a person can be considered "legally blind" without actually being totally blind. Doesn't make me feel better. If they need the braille buttons to get money out of the bank, how are they gonna get my FENDER out of their FOREHEAD when they crash into me because they couldn't see my brake lights?

En Plan om at gøre Alle Mødre Skøre

Or, in case you can't read Danish (and neither can I - that's why I used an online translator)

A Plan to make All Mothers Crazy

Anyone who has a boy child aged 4 and older can relate to what I am about to say. I have, for many years, fought the tiny invading pests that infect our home. I hate these tiny nuisances and loathe the day they entered our house. No matter how much I make attempts to keep the floor clean, these microscopic invaders find their way onto the floor, into the closets, and somehow make it into our van, which presents a whole new hide-and-seek game for me.

The sad part is, that I actually invited them into our home. I believe it was at Charlie Brown's 5th birthday party that the microscopic infestation began:

I mean, seriously, have you ever attempted to put one of these things together? Oh, sure, the suggested age is 6+. And, if your house is anything like mine, "age 6+" means "You may begin harassing your parents up to 2 years before the suggested age limit until they finally break from the constant pressure".

I mean, the Lego set just look SO COOL, right? And, so what if my kids' fingers lack enough dexterity to push together pieces that just 12 months ago were too dangerous for him to have, lest he choke on one? So what if the instruction novella booklet to assemble the eleventy-jillion pieces is 27 frickin pages long? So what if the whole point of this toy is the assembly, not the playing, right?

And, here's the kicker: Has ANYONE ever successfully put one of these suckers together, start to finish, AND KEPT IT PUT TOGETHER? Nope, us neither. I mean, we usually get it together about 90% of the way, and within 1 week the entire kit looks like this:
Not so much resembling a castle anymore, huh? So, when we try to reassemble the castle 2 months later, where is the ONE piece we need to make the drawbridge? Where is the head for the knight on the white steed? Lost, of course. Or dropped down a heating vent. Or in a crayon box. Or swallowed.

So, what does a sucker smart person like me do? BUY ANOTHER LEGO KIT.
Now, you might be thinking that I would have learned my lesson with the lego castle. Well, you would be wrong. I, the eternal optimist, think "I will help my child put this monstrosity of a puzzle together, and we will put it up on a shelf to admire." This, of course, never works. We - and by we, I mean a 5-year-old and his 30-year-old mother - get too hungry/tired/carpal tunnel to finish the assembly beyond 90%. The other 10% of the Legos end up getting dumped into the lego kitty to be used for various other projects.

But, do I stop there? OF COURSE NOT. I assume that a "smaller" Lego project would be easier to complete.
And, yes, at the risk of seeming TOTALLY pathetic, I my son is finally able to finish an entire lego project. So, what does he do with his new project? Does he put it up high and admire it without touching it or even breathing on it too hard?

No. He plays with it. THE HORROR!! A CHILD PLAYING WITH A TOY!!!

Once again, said Lego project is reduced to a pile of bricks. Now, a mere 2 and a half years later, I have completely sworn off any purchases of Legos unless they are specifically NOT to be assembled into a predetermined design. After all, Legos were initially created for that very purpose: to take a bunch of nothings and make something out of them. I remember when I was a kid, there were no "special" Lego pieces; there were only square (4-dot), small rectangle (2-dot), large rectangle (8-dot), and some wheels, if you were really lucky. Those were all good enough for us. But now they've got so many different shapes that my kids sometimes fail to use their imaginations, forgetting that when you build with rectangles they don't magically morph into circles or triangles. They might complain, "That doesn't look like a house! The roof looks like a staircase!" Well, if our roof were made of bricks, that's what it would look like, hon!

So, for now, the main purpose of Legos in our house is to provide constant frustration for me. I step on them in the middle of the night when checking on my sleeping angels. I find them in the crevices of our couch. I suck them up into the vacuum (shh... don't tell on me). I find them in the bottom of the washer after nearly every load. And, the sad thing is, when I find a sale on Legos, I really begin to think, "Oh, I just KNOW the boys would love these..."

p.s. If you don't know why the title is in Danish, it is because Legos were invented by somebody Danish. I think. Or maybe they came from Denmark. Um... the brain cells that possess that knowledge have already been recycled to remember my kids' school's fax number.

All photos courtesy of Google Images. Legos are a trademark of somebody... whatever... I'm not making any money on this blog so do they really care?

One Whale of a Garage Sale

For people looking to snag a good deal, garage sales are really great. However, I find that they tend to be hit-or-miss. Follow the pink signs, taped to wooden paint-stir-sticks, with the balloons attached... only to find a single table filled with Christmas decorations, homemade tchotchkes, and a computer from 1994. That's 20 minutes of my life I'll never get back.

What some people may not realize is that there is a huge market for second-hand Gymboree, Baby Gap, and Sketchers. The smart moms who know this, know to clean those items up and resell them to the next size 3T up the block. But, who needs to wait for the people to come to you? You can bring your clothes to the MOBY DICK OF ALL GARAGE SALES.

This week I am participating in the Just Between Friends Consignment Sale in Fort Worth. The idea is that you take your childrens' items (clothes, toys, books, videos, shoes, furniture, diaper pails, bike helmets, etc.) and name your price, then sell them to the public in one giant sale. This event started out small, taking up only a couple of rooms at a church. Now it has expanded so much that it takes the Will Rogers Memorial Exhibition Hall in downtown Fort Worth to contain all of its awesomeness. Here are some pictures of what I saw on Tuesday Night:

And, I wanted to show you a very unique item I had never seen before. It was so unique that I took a picture but didn't purchase it; but I think you'll enjoy it:

Yes, this is a potty-chair that's not quite the garden variety type. It is a training-urinal. At first when I saw it, I kept staring, wondering, what is this thing? Then it hit me like a urinal puck. OMG this is for little guys to learn how to squirt into the urinal. HOW CUTE!

How pathetic is that that I think urinals are cute?

I have to admit that while I was volunteering at the consignment sale, I had to fight back tears a few times for different reasons. As I was placing my own items onto the racks and tables to be offered up for sale to people who CLEARLY would not appreciate them as much as I did, I kept thinking, "I remember when Peppermint Patty wore that to her birthday party!" or "I have pictures of Charlie Brown wearing that on the first day of school!" or "I still remember when Linus insisted on wearing that outfit every single day for a week." Sentimental attachments make it hard to cut the apron strings. Then, of course, I saw many pregnant women and also tons of baby clothes. Like, teeny tiny baby clothes. It reminded me of the baby I lost when I had actually not thought about the little Peanut for quite a while. I choked back the sadness when I asked women "When are you due?" They would respond "Early June" - just the same as I was supposed to be. So, I almost feel a little selfish grieving for my lost baby when so many people are going through so much more and so much worse. But grief's a funny thing: just when you think you've kicked its ass, it comes back and opens up a can of whoop-ass right back on ya.

Please Keep Books Away From Children

That's the message the Consumer Products and Safety Commission (CPSA) is sending to parents who have children under the age of 12.

As I was watching the news on Wednesday night, I saw this story about the pickle that libraries have found themselves in. It seems that in children's books printed before 1985, lead may have been used in the inks used in the books. To remain in accordance with the CPSIA (Consumer Products Safety Improvement Act, which went into effect on February 10) every book printed before 1985 must be tested for lead levels. And not just the pages will be tested, but also the cover and the spine. The estimated cost for this testing is $300-$600 per book. Libraries may choose to test every single children's book for lead, or else disallow any child into the library who is under the age of 12. Or, they may voluntarily get rid of every book printed before 1985 and repurchase newer versions of the books.

Is this really an expense that libararies can afford to absorb? One of two things will happen: Libraries will go broke or children will stop going to the library. Toddler storytime will become a distant memory. If libraries are in fact forced to comply with the CPSA guidelines and do the testing, will this be the end of free lending libraries in the USA? Don't get me wrong - I think that childrens' safety is of paramount importance. But, is this really a smart decision that will have more positive effects than negative?

Also, I'm wondering why in the hell I turned out okay, considering that when they must have changed over to lead-free inks for books in 1985, I was 13. In addition to practically living at the library as a child, I also read all of my older siblings' books, which were printed in the 60's and 70's. I mean, hell - they probably used arsenic to glue the book bindings back then!

SuperSpouse

I went to a MOPS group on Monday with my new gal-pal Natalie. In case you don't know what MOPS is, it is a group for Mothers of Preschoolers, and they meet on a regular basis for moms to support one another through encouragement, mentoring, friendship, and fun. I had a really great time. The activity at this particular meeting was a Q-and-A session with the women mentors - the ladies who were a little bit older, the ones who've already "been there, done that." The questions mostly stayed on the topics of marriage and family.

We got around to talking about how we view our spouses, and how easy it is to compare them (in a negative way) to what our ideal mate would be. Sometimes that ideal mate is a fantasy, like Brad Pitt or Tim McGraw. But sometimes, that ideal mate comes in the form of our best friend's spouse. I mean, how many times have you been at a friend's house, and her husband talks to her quietly, doesn't interrupt the conversation, offers to make dinner, compliments her on everything, etc.? It has happened to me more than once. Sometimes that spouse seems so amazing that it can be easy to lift him up onto a pedestal and (unfortunately) my relationship with my own husband suffers because of it. In the back of my mind, I compare Texan Papa's shortcomings with the amazing powers of "superspouse". I realize it isn't fair to him and it only hurts our marriage. I've always said, "I try to only hold my husband up to the same level of standards to which I want him to hold me up to." So far, it helps me be okay with his imperfections when I realize that, uh, I'm not so perfect myself. (seriously! I know, I come off that way, but NO I do have some flaws.) :-)

We talked about the reality of marriage: when a guy is in front of his wife's friends, of COURSE he's not going to put all his bad traits out there on display. Of COURSE he's going to have good manners. Of COURSE he's going to talk to her sweetly and be helpful. What's going on behind the scenes is not always a mirror image of what is shown to the outside world, though, and it may be easy to think that the "superspouse" is really super 100% of the time. I mean, even Superman had to be Clark Kent every once in a while, right?

So, that got me thinking... if the superspouses possibly have a not-so-perfect side behind closed doors, I really wonder if the asshole that is married to my friend actually has a sweet, soft, gentlemanly side underneath the gruff exterior? I figure, if I love and respect my friend, and I trust her judgement in choosing me as a friend, how can I then second-guess her judgement in her choice of a husband?

Just thinking...

How do I Read To You?

And by that title, I mean, what do you think I look like?

I had many comments after my last post that revealed some bloggers' surprise at the fact that I am a blonde. And my first thought was, "Well, THAT'S one I've never heard before."

I wondered, what exactly does a blonde blogger read like? I guess I had everyone fooled... hopefully I have broken the blonde blogger stereotype. I am just so confused. What is it about my blog that shouts "BRUNETTE!!!!!"? Should I give my blog the occasional sprinkling of "Like, NO way" and the occasional "That's hot" so that everyone knows exactly what type of person they are reading? I got this reaction from people at the dinner as well as readers who saw the photo recap. Exactly what is it about my writing that exudes brown roots?

Going to the DFW blogger dinner was a bit unnerving for me. I am kinda a freak about my anonymity. I have done a lot to protect my name, my kids' names, and of course Texan Papa's name. So, I felt like going to the blogger dinner was coming out of the closet. I had a big place card with my name on it, but not the name I'm known by - Texan Mam. Some folks looked at my name card, and I said, "My handle is 'Texan Mama'" at which point I was on the receiving end of the lightbulb-moment expression. But, since I felt that I could actually be myself around all these fantastic people, I thought it would be fine to let my hair down. I talked about my kids, my husband, where we live, etc. I figured, hey, these people are sharing too. For me not to give out my personal information, well, that would just be RUDE! And now, I've decided to really put myself out there: I told some real-life friends that I write a blog. I am still hiding in the corner, awaiting the fallout of that decision. I am praying that I don't get weird looks from my friends after I post about things like pubic hair.

And, by the way, if you want to see other pictures of me and read about my family, just click on the "Texan Mama" tab at the top of my blog (just under the header title).

Putting a Face to a Blog

So, I survived.

I went to the DFW Blogger dinner. And I didn't trip, or spill my drink, or get food in my teeth (that I know of). I had a good time, but I am pretty exhausted from all the butterflies bumping around inside my tummy for the last 6 hours.

All the internal turmoil started this morning. What was I going to wear? I debated... Jeans? Dress? Jeans? Dress? Eventually, I decided to wear a dress because I figured that I don't get a girls' night out that often, so I should probably wear something festive - and something I wouldn't normally wear to carpool.

I gave strict instructions to Texan Papa: "If you start to feel sick at work, and you think you might come home and be too ill to watch the kids, be SURE to call a babysitter from work. Because I am not cancelling my dinner plans."

I washed my hair. And blow-dried it. AND flat-ironed it. AND PUT PRODUCT IN IT. Sheesh, you'd think I was entering a pageant or something. I put on some new fun jewelry, I put on more makeup than I've worn in about a year, and I was off. I was so nervous for my blind date with the DFW blogging crew.

I rode to the dinner with Natalie, which helped ease my nerves. She and I talked a bunch in the car on the ride up to the Galleria. Well, we tried to talk but kept getting interrupted by that sassy Garmin navigator of hers. It can NOT shut up. What an attention whore.

When we arrived, we both looked around for familiar faces. We looked at each other like, "Well, I guess it's now or never..." so we started smiling at people as if to say, Hi. Do I look like I write a blog? Do you recognize my profile photo?

I got to hear the voices that I'd only pictured in my ears. I got to see how tall Dorsey is, and I got to ask Lisa a million questions about food and homeschooling. I finally met Em face-to-face and I talked Holly's ear off about burbmom.net. Plus, I got to meet many other bloggers. And, there were some I didn't get to talk to but I hope to someday.

Finally, around 11pm, we decided we'd better all get home to our families, lest they get the idea that we actually enjoy spending time with our blogger friends more than we enjoy folding laundry and cleaning out the garbage disposal. No, honey, I had a good time but I wish I'd been home here helping you get the kids to bed and watching SNL.

*wink, wink*







I am ashamed that I don't know these people's names or blogs. It was a REALLY big group of people. Still, not an excuse.



?, Jill from JillJillBoBill, Elaine from Miss-Elaine-eous Life, ?

And, since some folks asked, here's some pictures of what I wore. And, because I have to flaunt my bargains - I'm shameless like that - I am also going to tell you what I paid for these items.

Here's the dress I decided to wear. I really like it. Fun, but not risque. On clearance from Walmart - $9.

This necklace and earrings set came from Wal-Mart too. $10 for both.

Shoes from DSW - CL by Chinese Laundry. $30 on clearance.

Purse (Gucci - it's a fake, I'm sure.) Got it from a local secondhand store that benefits a pregnancy shelter. $15.

So, the total outfit cost me $64. And, dinner, with tip, was exactly $36. So, $100 for a new outfit and dinner out. Not bad, I'd say.