Archives for February 2010

This afternoon Alex and I ran by the bookstore so I could pick up a copy of Beth Moore’s new book. The book is called So Long, Insecurity, and I’d be glad to tell you all about how I sometimes struggle with insecurity if I weren’t so worried that you wouldn’t like me afterwards.

We hung out in the bookstore for a few minutes because, well, I have determined that bookstores are officially the most relaxing places on earth. Every once in awhile I even think about carrying a blanket in the bookstore and then settling in for a quick snooze, but maybe it’s better if I just stop right there before I run the risk of oversharing and thereby alienate at least half and maybe even three-quarters of you.

See? BRIMMING WITH CONFIDENCE.

Anyway, after we left the bookstore (FOR THE RECORD: I DID NOT FALL ASLEEP THERE), we ran by Walmarts. I’m usually not a very enthusiastic Thursday night cook because it’s my Bible study night, and given the amount of meat we cook around here, I hate to walk into Bible study and know that the girls can smell FRIED MEAT all over my clothes. Lucky for me David was totally on board with having nachos for supper – mainly because he is completely and totally addicted to the salsa recipe I posted yesterday – so I only needed to pick up a few things at the store.

(Do you know what else I should’ve bought at the Walmarts?)

(SOME BREVITY.)

(Would’ve done me a world of good.)

So Alex and I were making our way around the store, and when we got to the end of the chips aisle (it’s my favorite!), the little man said, “MAMA! LOOK!”

And do you know what? Not three feet in front of us there was a sweet lady handing out samples of a new flavor of Cheez-Its – which, as we all know, is the very best snack cracker in the history of all snack crackers in the universe and beyond and even in heaven.

Don’t tell me there are no Cheez-Its in heaven. Because I will not believe you.

The boy and I both took a sample, and I admit that I was skeptical. There have been all sorts of new Cheez-It flavor combinations over the last couple of years, and after an unfortunate experience with the Smoked Cheddar / Monterey Jack combo, I’ve tried to stick with old school Cheez-Its.

You know. The ones that God makes.

But let me tell you: after we sampled the new flavor, I looked at Alex and he looked at me and after a few seconds of wide-eyed staring he said, “Mama, these are DELICIOUS. We’ve gotta get some of these, Mama.”

So that’s exactly what we did.

A little child shall lead them, y’all.

A little child shall lead them into exciting new snack food options.

And just in time for the Super Bowl, at that.

So tonight I was walking from the kitchen to the guest room – where I had big plans for folding clothes and watching the State/Vandy basketball game – and I realized that pretty much anytime I get ready to commit to the night’s TV viewing spot, I always take three things with me.

(And please notice how I very lovingly placed these three things on a throw before I took their picture. I wanted them to be comfortable.)

(After all, they’re family.)

1. Mississippi State stadium cup – because I like to have ice cubes in my presence at all times, and a stadium cup is the perfect size

2. Mentholatum – because I have a deep and abiding fear of needing to soothe my chapped lips but not having lip balm handy

3. My phone – because I find that reality shows and sporting events are infinitely more enjoyable when accompanied by some quality texting

What about y’all? Do you have any “comfort items” that you like to have at the ready when you’re watching TV? Or just stuff that you always take with you when you move from room to room? Or am I just strange?

You don’t have to tell me if it’s that last thing.

Really. You don’t. Promise.

The end.

A few years ago I felt completely overwhelmed by the toys in our house. And feeling overwhelmed by the toys made me feel overwhelmed by the pantry. And feeling overwhelmed by the pantry made me feel overwhelmed by the upstairs linen closet. And on and on it went, until I finally had a small, private nervous breakdown and cleaned out every single room / closet / cabinet in our house while I cried and wailed about ALL THE CHAOS and used old dustrags to wipe my tear-stained face.

Oh, it was an ugly time. But the results were marvelous.

At some point during my obsessive diligent cleaning-out process, I ran across FlyLady‘s how-to-keep-your-house-clean website. And while I don’t get the FlyLady emails anymore – mainly because I think 467 emails a day distract me more than they inspire me – I do remember a few of her tips, and I think about them all the time.

For example, FlyLady encourages her readers to wake up every morning and get dressed from head to toe, then put on lace-up shoes. It cracks me up that FlyLady specifies that we need to get dressed from “head to toe,” mainly because it makes me picture somebody putting on a shirt, looking at her bare legs, and then thinking, “Yep. I’m done. That’s enough clothes for the day.”

And as far as lace-up shoes are concerned – well, no. No thank you. Uggs? Yes. Flip-flops? Yes. Lace-up shoes? Not so much. Not first thing in the morning, at least. I need some time and some coffee before I’m ready to tie laces. I think it’s probably right and healthy for all of us to be well-familiar with our personal lacing terms and conditions.

Another FlyLady tip? Make sure you keep your kitchen sink clean. I actually really like this tip and try to use it every day. There’s something about a sink that looks clean and pretty that makes me not care quite as much about the crumbs around my kitchen table. The only downside is that I have a white porcelain sink at our current house – not a stainless sink like I had at the other one – and OH, I MISS THE SHINY. I try to make my white sink shine, but it is impossible. There’s always some drop of something that ruins the magic. So these days I pretty much just wipe it down and avert my eyes and pretend like it looks absolutely beautiful.

Amen.

The other FlyLady tip I remember is to set aside five minutes every night to straighten up the “hot zones” in your house. Hot zones are areas that tend to collect clutter, and during the major clean-out of a few years ago, we really only had one identifiable hot zone: the coffee table in the living room. At that point in time Alex wasn’t in school, there were no papers scattered around, and toys mainly hung out on the floor. I felt a little superior about our absence of noticeable clutter, in fact. Prided myself on how well we kept the mail and the random papers to a minimum.

Well.

This morning I was getting dressed (from head to toe! but still no laces!), and as I looked around the house with some coffee-fueled eyes, I started to feel a little frustrated by all the clutter. It seemed like there was paper everywhere I looked. And after seeing what was seriously the fifth stack-o-junk, I remembered FlyLady’s hot zones tip. I got a little tickled.

Because seriously?

We don’t just have zones that are hot.

Our zones are on FI-IRE.

And trust me when I tell you that those three pictures are just the tip of the proverbial FLAMING HOT ICEBERG.

So I’m going to clean now.

For the record, I don’t think I’ll ever finish.

Hold me.

Oh, people. I had such high hopes for this past weekend.

Our plan was to head to Nashville Friday afternoon, because for months – MONTHS, I tell you – our sweet friend Angela has been planning a surprise 40th birthday party for Travis. And not just any surprise party – an 80s surprise party. With costumes.

And even better? It worked out that Melanie was going to be able to fly in for the party. We were so tickled that we were going to be able to experience the 80s fashion Hall of Shame together, and oh, we did we ever plot and plan and Google to come up with the perfect party outfits. I really wanted to wear one of the Suzy Peacock romper dresses that I absolutely adored back in the late 80s (picture a bubble suit for grown-ups, then add cabbage rose floral fabric, lots of Battenburg lace and a handful of themed buttons), but unfortunately I gave all of them away about ten years ago when I realized that I no longer had any desire to dress like a toddler.

I can’t imagine what I was thinking when I got rid of them, because obviously there are many days when I’m getting ready to make a quick trip to the grocery store and wish with all my heart that I had a cute cabbage rose romper to throw on. It would be perfect with jelly sandals, lace gloves and a sassy tulle hairbow.

Anyway, given the absence of the Suzy Peacock dresses and the realization that any of the current 80s throwback fashions are designed for people whose waists are the size of my right knee, I finally decided that my 80s outfit was going to have to be something fairly simple. It all came together when I remembered my 80s love for a little product called puff paint – which you can actually still buy at Walmart – and as it turns out, one cheap sweatshirt + one package of pink Rit dye + 3 colors of puff paint = 80s MAGIC.

Is that not the most hideously delightful thing you’ve ever seen? And let me tell you: with a pair of tight-rolled jeans, some big hair and some bedazzled flats? SPECTACULAR.

David decided to go with more of a preppy look and wear two Polo shirts at once. He also attacked some old jeans with bleach and a cheese grater, and HELLO, 1988, WE’VE MISSED YOU SO.

I’m pretty sure I wore jeans with that exact wash when I moved into my freshman dorm. KLASSY.

So we were all geared up for the party, and early Friday morning I woke up and packed our suitcase and clapped my hands in anticipation. But not too long after I finished packing, I checked the Nashville weather and thought, “UH-OH – there’s trouble in them thar hills.” Then David told me that it might be too icy on the other side of the state line for us to travel, and I made a VERY informed remark about I was sure it would all be fine because the weather people are always saying things like “SEVERE WINTER STORM” and then it snows for two whole seconds and CLEARLY WE SHOULD NOT LET THEM STOP US.

But around mid-morning, after at least three different people emailed us about the bad road conditions (the word “treacherous” tends to get my attention), my Nashville friend Paige called and said that the weather really was too bad for out-of-town folks to make the trip. I was so bummed. And in the spirit of the party theme, I pondered throwing a VERY DRAMATIC little fit just like I would have done when I was a teenager.

In the end, though, no fits were thrown – and I didn’t slam my door and crank up the Phil Collins music, either, even though I TOTALLY THOUGHT ABOUT IT. There were, however, six or nineteen conversations between Melanie and me about how sad we were that we weren’t going to make it to the fiesta. She had banana clips for us to wear, for heaven’s sake. AND BLUE EYESHADOW. AND HOT PINK BEADS.

But alas, it wasn’t meant to be. And I guess the up side is that I have a smokin’ hot new sweatshirt to wear when I go to the grocery store. It’ll help fill the void left by that cabbage rose Suzy Peacock romper.

It’s a bit of a hollow victory, but I’ll take it.

Happy 40th, Trav!