Saturday, November 21, 2009

Edward Cullen is beautiful....and unfortunately fake.


It's a shame he isn't real isn't it? Well, maybe not when you consider the host of issues we'd have to deal with if he was real. You know, vampires, werewolves and such. That part of things might not be too pleasant. But just to look at him.... **SIGH** And it's not even a Robert Pattinson kind of thing, because oddly enough, I really don't get my knickers in a wad over him personally. Only when he is EDWARD. That's altogether different.

So, in honor of the fact that I'm going to see New Moon with Ames tomorrow (seriously A. BabyDaddy owes you something terrible - he was going to have to suffer through it with me before you so graciously volunteered), and also in honor of all things Twilight, I decided just to take a few moments to dwell on the many ways one can show one's devotion to the fan club. Professions of loyalty run the gamut, as you will soon see.






You could buy the jewelry -- I am seriousy tempted by chunky, vintage pieces, so I could realistically see myself wearing Alice's choker, or Rosalie's pendant...



You could purchase the Barbies -- I hear Edward even has vampire-sparkly skin. How clever!




You could hang your Edward stocking by the chimney with care... 'though Santa might be frightened -- what a ferocious stare!




You can even find him as wall art. Oh darlings, I did try to persuade BabyDaddy, but he thought that might be just a smidge creepy in our bedroom. Silly BD....




Some of the fans might even go so far as to profess their Twilight love in a more permanent way. (Now THAT, my friends, is certainly taking it to a 'HO, nudda, level.)






























There is definately more than one way to show your Twilight love.....however, I think I'll just stick to something simple and classy. Sorry BD - you know I love you!










Wednesday, November 18, 2009

The Muffin


As several of you already know, we spent the majority of Sunday afternoon and evening in the local emergency room with the Muffin. After a follow up on Monday with the pediatrician, he was diagnosed with pneumonia, along with an ear infection. Bless his little heart, he was put on a nebulizer to help him breathe, a steroid, and an antibiotic. Hopefully, we'll be able to knock it out soon. He is doing much better, breathing easier and no fever for the past two days. There has been some drama with a new pediatrician attempting to put him on a strong steroid regimen for chronic asthma (additional to the steroid he is already on, and it would be much more powerful). However, since he doesn't have chronic asthma, and his breathing problems were a result of the pneumonia, BabyDaddy and I didn't agree with this and have decided not to give this to him. The pediatrician was very disappointing; when we called the office with our concerns about the medication, and hoping for some reassurance, we instead got a call back from the receptionist saying that the doctor said, "It was our decision". No discussion, no reassurance. Needless to say, we immediately scheduled an appointment with our normal pediatrician in the practice, (who was out this week), and will let her know how this has played out. In the meantime, thanks so much to all those who have sent the Muffin get-well cards, called, or prayed. We appreciate it!!

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Sunday Thanks


I am thankful for for afternoon naps with kids and dogs. I am thankful for situations that make you worry, because they are the ones that test your faith and make you strong. I am thankful for having grandparents that instinctively know what you need, when you need it, and unselfishly swoop in to save the day. I am thankful for sunny fall afternoons, flea markets, and power wheels. I am thankful for Candyland, and for the joy that comes when the red gingerbread man (BabyDaddy) gets stuck in the Chocolate Swamp, and the green and yellow gingerbread men (Muffin and I) whup his tail soundly. I am thankful for a sermon that makes me think. I am thankful that BD finally brought my fall decorations down from the attic, and that I restrained myself from kicking the ladder out from under him when he did. (Holy cow, already! Did you realize this is stinking NOVEMBER? I've been asking him since August.) I am thankful for Cracker Barrel's apple streusel french toast. I am thankful for today.




I think it was equally enjoyable for everyone.




"Daddy, I 'fink you are too fat for my truck. You make it go WEAWWY slow..."



The library was giving away these old books for free!


Can you tell I took several? I used them all over the house...



I finally got around to taking pictures of the Muffin's new 'big boy, no-baby-rubber-duckies-allowed' bathroom. We have been infested with silly monsters! My in-laws and Jess-from-the-Country commented that the color (Parakeet Green) was "bright". I took that as a compliment. I have lived far too long with a neutral color palette. I'm ready to be bright!





Saturday, November 7, 2009

Book Teaser


I must be on a southern fiction kick, but I'm loving it -- I finished Mudbound last week, and have been meaning to post something about it since. The teaser:


It is 1946 in the Mississippi Delta, where Memphis-bred Laura McAllan is struggling to adjust to farm life, rear her daughters with a modicum of manners and gentility, and be the wife her land-loving husband, Henry, wants her to be. It is an uphill battle every day. Things started badly when Henry's trusting nature resulted in the family being done out of a nice house in town, thus relegating them to a shack on their property. In addition, Henry's father, Pappy, a sour, mean-spirited devil of a man, moves in with them.
The real heart of the story, however, is the friendship between Jamie, Henry's too-charming brother, and Ronsel Jackson, son of sharecroppers who live on the McAllan farm. They have both returned from the war changed men: Jamie has developed a deep love for alcohol and has recurring nightmares; Ronsel, after fighting valiantly for his country and being seen as a man by the world outside the South, is now back to being just another black "boy."
Told in alternating chapters by Laura, Henry, Jamie, Ronsel, and his parents, Florence and Hap, the story unfolds with a chilling inevitability. Jordan's writing and perfect control of the material lift it from being another "ain't-it-awful" tale to a heart-rending story of deep, mindless prejudice and cruelty. This is an eminently readable and enjoyable story."


And three of my favorite excerpts:


-- Daddy always wrote me back with news from home: The skeeters were bad this year. Ruel and Marlon had grown two whole inches. Lilly May sang a solo in church. The mule got into the cockleburs again. Mississippi felt far, far away.

-- "You'll move if I say so," Hap said. "For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church."
"Only so long as he alive," I said. "For if the husband be dead the wife is loosed from his law. Says so in Romans."

-- Ronsel couldn't a cared less about having his own land, but there wasn't no point in telling that to my husband. Might as well to been singing songs to a dead hog. Once Hap gets a notion a something, he's deaf and blind to everything that don't mesh with it. It's what makes him a good preacher, his faith never wobbles.


Thursday, November 5, 2009

LEX 18 Continuous News | LEX18 | Lexington, KY | News, Weather, Sports, Kentucky |

LEX 18 Continuous News LEX18 Lexington, KY News, Weather, Sports, Kentucky

The Governor's Office Says It's A Christmas Tree Once Again
Posted 9 hours 22 minutes 55 seconds ago
The tree that will stand outside Kentucky's capitol will be called a Christmas tree after all.At Clays Mill Road Baptist Church, Pastor Jeff Fugate delivered the news to his congregation. The announcement received thunderous applause.

Thank goodness! I'm glad to know there are enough of us out there who appreciate Christmas for what it truly is, and I'm even thankful for the people who, though they do not believe as I do, call a spade a spade and a Christmas tree a Christmas tree. This was about as bloody ridiculous as it gets!

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

I missed my weekly Sunday Thanks post because I was so darn thankful to be home I fell asleep. Long weekend perhaps? Yes. Good? Uh-huh. Bad? Unfortunately, also. Ugly? Definitely more than a little.

THE GOOD:
Darling Jess-from-the-country journeyed up to the city on Friday. In fact, when I walked through the door after work I realized that the world had ceased to revolve around the sun, and was instead crazily spinning around Planet Jess. Now ya’ll know I’m a diva in my own right and I wouldn’t normally relinquish my ‘Goddess of the Universe’ tiara to just anyone, and certainly not without a hair-pullin’ fight. But, since it was Jess and we sort of go way back, I temporarily rescinded my throne. Saturday morning was spent stretched out on our respective couches, sipping coffee and gossiping. Because BabyDaddy had to work on Halloween, Jess, the Muffin, and I went back to God’s Country for Trick-or-Treating. (I’ll skip over the trip, because you’ll hear all about that later in the “Ugly” section.) My nephew was able to join us, which was awesome. The boys had a terrific time, except for the fact that I put my son’s shoes on the wrong feet. (We discovered this after we posted the pictures on Facebook – the incident was only slightly less embarrassing than when I posted a picture of the Muffin on FB with no pants.) To be fair however, I changed him into his costume in the middle of a Wendy’s while he was attempting to tag Kelt “it” and squirm away from me. I didn’t want him to get ketchup all over his bright yellow costume, and so he wasn’t wearing it during dinner. Regardless of our little left foot-right shoe blunder, it was a grand evening. The night ended, as per my as of yet unpublished (but just-as-good-as-enforceable-law) RULES OF MOMMY, with my ‘inspection’ of the candy. Hmmm. Almond Joy? Wouldn’t want you to choke on that almond my dear, I’ll just take care of that. Nerds? Much too small for you. Into the Mommy pile. Dark chocolate Hershey’s? Definitely too rich. Might give you a tummy ache, and we wouldn’t want that now would we? Aaaahhh. The joys of a late night, and slightly unethical, sugar rush. The old cliché stealing candy from a baby? That doesn’t apply – my son is almost three and I didn’t really ‘steal’ it. I merely confiscated and relocated it. Now, the tried and true, this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you? Oh, blessed angels in heaven, it did. A stomach isn’t made for that kind of abuse, and mine told me so my scrunching itself into a tight little knot of painful sugar-hyped protest. It was that last package of Gummy Starbursts, I just know it. Score – Candy: 1 Tummy: 0. Viva la Rol-Aids!

THE BAD:
Fortunately, we had only a few mishaps with the boys. The Muffin nearly gave himself a concussion while trying to monitor a hatchling baby dinosaur. It was one of those grow creatures that you put in water, only this one was in an egg, and as he expanded in the water, he ‘hatched’. One of the Muffin’s favorite movies is Ice Age 3: Dawn of the Dinosaurs, so this whole hatching baby dinosaurs was old hat for him. We could barely get him to leave it alone. “Come OUT baby dinosaur. I NeeeeeD you. ‘Es all-wight. You should not be s’keered.” Anyway, the egg was in its bowl of water on the kitchen counter. The Muffin, in sock feet, scales the bar stool in an attempt to check on the baby one more time before church, slips, and introduces the side of his face to the edge of the counter. He actually looked a bit like “Scarface” from The Lion King, with a perfect line bisecting the right half of his face. Also in the category of ‘Bad’, after church we noticed that my nephew was starting to cough and act lethargic, with a bit of sneezing and low-grade fever thrown in on the side. Yesterday, we got word he has the flu. Both he and the Muffin had their vaccines about the same time. And both of them were all over each other the whole weekend. My juice box is your juice box -- you know the drill with kids. So far, Kelt is on Tamiflu and seems to be doing okay, and the Muffin hasn’t shown any symptoms. Yet.

THE UGLY:
The trip back to God’s Country on Saturday started out pretty smooth. The Muffin fell asleep while watching the afore-mentioned Ice Age movie for the 3,475th time, and I was rocking out my iPod. Just cruising along, with Jess behind me in her car. Then, The Hill. One of those huge, mile-long incline type deals. The road opened up to three lanes, and I eased out to pass the all-too-common rusted out farm truck. I was somewhere in the middle of “Fantasy” by Mariah Carey, singing about talking sweet and lookin’ fine, so I didn’t hear the nasty choking sound the engine was making. Then, I realized that I was going slower. Like, a lot slower. In fact, the harder I pushed on the gas, the slower I went. Not usually a good thing. Poor Jess passed me with her hands thrown up in question. I’m frantically signing back, “What-the-crap-I-have-no-freaking-idea-what’s-going-on!” (I was moving my arms quite a bit to get all that across.) God Bless Jess. Cool, calm, and collected Jess. She called me on my cell, and she convinced me to pull over at a service station where the super-nice gentleman owner came out – I guess there’s something about me in a service station parking lot with the hood popped that screams “I know nothing about cars, come save me!” So he moseys over and informs Jess and I (the Muffin was still thankfully asleep in his car seat) after a quick peek that there is no oil in my truck. Yep. That’s what I said. NO OIL. Sort of a big deal. Especially since we took the truck to some hack about 3 weeks ago for a full tune up and oil change. Thankfully, the step-daddio was able to get a trailer and come pull the sorry heap of junk home. We have been informed that we would be better off scouring the junk yards for an engine instead of trying to repair the existing one. Great. Just freaking wonderful. BabyDaddy had to drive down to God’s Country on Sunday (in my trusty Toyota – who in goodness name EVER said a Chevy was reliable? I should have stuck to my guns…) and haul us all home.

It was a looooong weekend. But we still had a lot of fun. And a lot of candy. An awful, AWFUL lot of candy. (I have been trying to pace myself after the gorging disaster on Saturday night, so be comforted.)