I just had an epiphany.

I did. Right here in my very own kitchen.

When D and I were first married, I always felt like I had to just outdo myself when Martha and Sissie would visit. As soon they’d walk in the front door, I’d pick up the pace and start washing loads of laundry and cooking meals and folding clothes and changing sheets and basically racing around my own dadgum house at warp speed because I felt like I needed to be superwife. On some level, I guess, I wanted for them to approve of the way that I was taking care of their son / grandson, so I’d work myself into a frenzy because I told myself that there was some sort of twisted honor in being the busiest person in the room. I actually have a vivid memory of zipping through the den with a full basket of laundry while Martha and Sissie sipped on some coffee, and as I sat down my laundry basket in the next room and picked up a load of clothes that CLEARLY NEEDED TO BE WASHED IMMEDIATELY, I overheard Sissie say, “Martha? Does she EVER sit down?”

NO, I thought to myself. I NEVER SIT DOWN. BECAUSE IF I SIT DOWN THERE WILL NOT BE ANY WAY FOR YOU TO SEE HOW HARD I AM WORKING.

I’ve mellowed over the last fifteen years, of course, but if I’m honest I have to admit that I still have that tendency to go into overdrive when Martha comes to visit. I create a pace that’s not really sustainable, so in the middle of trying to be the happy daughter-in-law who hasn’t missed a detail in terms of caring for her family, I usually wind up snapping at my husband or cutting off the little guy mid-sentence. There have been more times than I’d like to admit when D and I were barely speaking at the end of the night, but by diggity I was going to fire up one last pot of coffee for my mother-in-law and make sure that we had a plan mapped out for the next day that involved shopping at six different stores and getting lunch at that cute little place that serves the best chicken salad. The following day I’d wake up and be worn out by mid-afternoon and could barely muster a glare at my husband when he walked through the door, but LOOK WHAT A GOOD DAUGHTER-IN-LAW I’M TRYING TO BE, WOULD SOMEONE PLEASE GIVE ME A TROPHY?

This morning the little guy and I were supposed to drive to Mississippi to pick up Martha and bring her back here for a few days, but first we had to run by the car place because my oil light was on. We finally got on the road two hours later than we planned, and by the time we got to my hometown, I had that icky feeling of being hurried because we were running so far behind schedule. Martha kept me entertained with stories on the way back here, but judging by the traffic we were in, most of the residents of Mississippi and Alabama had rented moving vans and/or charter buses today and were perfectly content to hang out in the left lane and then speed up when I tried to work my way around them. I’ve never been one for road rage, but by the time I got to our exit, it felt like there were lead rods in my shoulders, and I wanted to lay on my horn if someone in front of me did so much as click on a turn signal. I was done. Congratulations, traffic, YOU WON.

When we finally got to our house, my initial instinct was to plaster a smile on my face and immediately start playing the role of happy hostess. But our early morning combined with about six hours in the car combined with traffic combined with an epic case of the frayed nerves left me feeling like I wanted to do anything but chit-chat. And for whatever reason, in an unprecedented change of relational pace on my part, I decided that I was going to do the smart thing instead of the easy thing. I helped Martha get settled in her room, and then I said, “If you’ll give me about thirty minutes, I need to check my email and decompress just a little bit.”

I DID. I said it out loud just like a real-live grown-up. And of course Martha was totally fine with that because, well, she’s Martha. She and the little guy found a show to watch, and I went in my bedroom and sat down in a chair and didn’t move for the next half hour. I even dozed off a couple of times. And once I finished that second catnap, I was a new woman. I got up and made us a pot of coffee, and when D came home about 45 minutes later, I wasn’t snippy or snappy or outdone because I’d spent the whole day without one centimeter of margin. Those thirty minutes changed everything, and I wish I could travel back to 1998 and tell the newlywed version of me to SIMMER DOWN, SISTER – IT’S OKAY TO SIT A SPELL.

I realize that all of this may sound cuckoo crazy if you’re a super laid-back person who never worries what other people think. But I’m a pleaser – albeit an occasionally resentful one. So doing what I needed to do instead of doing what I thought I was supposed to do was a new and different approach for me. AND IT WORKED. Changed the whole course of my day.

That was my epiphany.

And I’m totally doing the same thing tomorrow.

Hallelujah.

Well, I totally bailed on y’all for a few days. I was in Nashville with Melanie to do the dotMom opening video, and I could tell you that we didn’t have one iota of fun, but that would be a lie. We laughed like crazy and had a blast. We also got to catch up with some sweet friends who we don’t see nearly enough, and even though I was a little bleary-eyed on the drive home this morning and may in fact sleep for fourteen hours tonight, I loved every second of our time there.

While we were in Nashville, a friend showed us some clips from Portlandia, which is one of those shows that I’ve never made time to watch even though people have recommended it over and over. I guess I’ve been too locked in to other TV commitments, but I’m very aware that the fall season is upon us, and this is the perfect time to re-evaluate my TV goals.

(By the way, three hour Bachelorette finale this Sunday!)

(I’ll watch it like it’s a football game.)

(I may even make some dips.)

SO, we did in fact watch some Portlandia clips last night, and oh, I laughed. I even wheezed a little bit. And this particular one – well, it is some mighty fine and funny satire.

I’m betting that a bunch of you have seen that already – but for me it was some brand new funny.

Anyway. Everybody in the house is asleep now, so that can only mean one thing: the Project Runway season premiere. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Heidi, Tim, and the gang, and I’m ready to catch up.

(See? TV commitments a-plenty.)

And one more thing: be sure to check out this post of Angie’s if you get a chance. It’s absolutely beautiful.

Hope you have a great weekend, everybody!

Well, I have started re-painting the cabinets that I started re-painting last week. And I can’t help but feel that the second color is much more soothing and a lot less HEY! IS THIS WHERE MARDI GRAS HAPPENS? than the first. Hopefully I’ll finish covering up all the green on Monday, and I will definitely take some pictures when I do.

Not that I haven’t worn y’all slap out with all my cabinet drama already.

We’ve also replaced our dead refrigerator with a new one, and once the delivery guys installed it yesterday morning and carried off our old one, the three of us sat in the kitchen for a few minutes and stared at our new appliance friend.

It was tricky to find one that fit in the allotted space since our house was built in the 70s – a simpler time when things like French door refrigerators were non-existent – so when we finally ran across one that wouldn’t block the entrance to our dining room, we were all over it. It’s a lot taller than our other one, and isn’t this the most fascinating content you’ve ever read? A comparison of refrigerators?

Up next: toasters!

Anyway, here are a few things that I’ve been meaning to mention but haven’t because of an overall lack of organization as well as a good measure of forgetfulness. It’s a winning combo.

– Where’s My Perry?

Everybody in our little family absolutely adores this game. I actually finished it last night, and I will probably play through all the levels all over again. I had no idea that the laws of physics could be so much fun.

– The Action Bible: God’s Redemptive Story

I bought this Bible for our little guy after JMom recommended it to me. I figured that it might be something he would look at from time to time – or something that we’d use to supplement his regular Bible – but he picked it up the day it came in and read it like a novel over the course of a week. Totally captivated by it. If you have a kid who likes superheroes, I bet they’ll enjoy this Bible, too.

– Cowbell Tales

If you’re a Mississippi State fan, you need to check out Cowbell Tales. It’s such a neat way to commemorate one of State’s most beloved traditions, and you can be a part of it by submitting pictures or stories for the upcoming book.

– The Worst Case Scenario: Amazon

This book has been a big hit in our house. HUGE.

– Strawberry Cake from Joe’s Italian

If you live in the Birmingham area and have not yet tried the strawberry cake from Joe’s Italian in Alabaster, I have a question for you: WHY? It is beyond delicious. Well worth the drive. The entrees are great, too, but the strawberry cake – well, it is magical.

– Not Crafty. Again.

A is really into Batman and wanted a bat signal. I told him to bring me a flashlight, some paper, and some scissors. Then I tried to cut out a shape like what I saw on his Batman cape. It turned out more like a dove signal than a bat signal, but it works like a charm when you shine it on the ceiling. Unfortunately, Doveman isn’t really in high demand these days.

– Zaxby’s Ice

I consider myself a bit of an ice connoisseur, and in my opinion Zaxby’s ice is finest ice of our time. I know that’s blasphemy to Sonic loyalists, but the Zaxby’s ice, while similar in its pellet shape, is a bit bigger and chewier. Perfection. Anyway, did you know that you can buy bags of Zaxby’s ice for $1.99? YOU CAN. You can buy it through the drive-thru or in the restaurant (as I have done twice in the last three days). And then you can enjoy said ice in the comfort of your very own home. It’s certain to add an exciting new dynamic to your ice consumption.

Hope y’all have a great week!

So, at first glance – and in the dark of night – you might think, Hey, that’s not so bad.

Sure, it’s a little bright, but it might be a little punch of happy when you’re cooking. It might make you smile when you walk in the back door.

It’s cheerful, after all. Such a happy color!

But when the sun comes up? And the light of day hits those cabinets? And you see the contrast between what was and what will be?

That’s when you throw down the paint brush and text the professionals and CRY OUT FOR COLOR SELECTION ASSISTANCE.

Hopefully it won’t be long before we can move past this sad moment in my decorative history.

And by the way, our refrigerator died today. Just quit. Healthy as a horse one minute, dead as a doornail the next.

Quite frankly I think it got a good look at one of those green cabinets and keeled right over. The visual shock was more than it could take.

Needless to say, the rest of our appliances would appreciate your prayers.

Yesterday I painted all day. Well, I painted during all the parts of the day when I wasn’t playing the Where’s My Perry? game (so delightfully addictive) or watching a certain reunion special on Bravo. But I painted A LOT. And while I was painting, I was good with the color. I recognized that the apple green was on the bright side, but unlike the mint-y green that’s been on the cabinets, there was nothing wishy-washy about the apple green.

And yesterday, at least, I appreciated that.

But this morning I got out of bed and walked in the kitchen and before I even knew what came over me, I said, “OH, NO. NOOOOOOO.” I said it a couple of times. And I meant it, too.

Because in the morning light, the apple green color is, well, neon-esque in its intensity. It’s just too much. Plus, in the spots where the apple green bumps up against the blue walls, it looks like I’ve tried to paint my kitchen to look like a nursery. Or at the very least a room that overstimulates four year-olds to ear-splitting levels of excitement.

I told myself to give it a few hours to see if the color calmed down, but I barely made it past lunch before I 911-texted my friend Bubba (who is an interior designer and not really named Bubba) and begged him to stage a cabinet color intervention. Bubba understands my tendency to get a little over-enthusiastic with my colors, which is why, when D and I bought our first house eleventy hundred years ago, Bubba mailed me a list of paint colors that he recommended. The colors were gorgeous, of course – very muted and rich and neutral – and I followed Bubba’s suggestions to the letter. I actually only fell off the Responsible Paint Color Selection Wagon twice when we were living in that house: once when I painted large stripes in our bedroom, unintentionally creating the effect of a carnival, and again when our dog went into labor in the back bedroom and I responded to the canine medical drama by painting my kitchen purple while my neighbor tended to the animals.

The puppies turned out way cuter than the kitchen, by the way.

Anyway, the long and the short of it is that the Apple Green Cabinet Experiment of 2012 is now drawing to a close. It was a tender time with some hard lessons. I took a chance, and it didn’t work out. Of course, that doesn’t mean that I won’t be walking through the grocery store next week and suddenly decide that my life won’t be complete if I don’t paint my bathroom a shade of coral that leans toward orange, but this particular citron-colored chapter of my decorative life is over.

I understand if you feel that you may require some time to adequately grieve and process this development. I know that the apple green option was wildly popular with approximately four of you. It’s to be expected that it may take awhile for us to get our emotional bearings again.

Fingers crossed, though, that I’ve gotten this round of Impulsive Decorative Disorder out of my system. I don’t want to move too quickly – there’s some healing that needs to happen, of course – but I’m ready to get some new paint and finish these cabinets. My apple green aims were honest, mind you, but like Randy Travis sings, “I hear tell that the road to OH MY WORD THAT’S THE TACKIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN is paved with good intentions.”

Or something like that.

So just as soon as I gaze lovingly at the apple green cabinets and shed a single tear, I’m going to grab some sandpaper, rub off the tacky, and move on.

It’s the right thing to do.

(Feel free to begin playing some inspirational music.)

(I’ve always been partial to the theme from Chariots of Fire).

(But any of the Rocky themes would be totally appropriate as well.)

Listen. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

But this morning, around 11 or 11:30, I was checking my email and minding my business and listening to the little guy laugh with our next door neighbor, and out of nowhere I thought, I kind of feel like painting the kitchen cabinets.

And then I looked around like Who? Who just said that? Who would suggest such a thing? STOP IT WITH THE CRAZY TALK ONE TIME.

So y’all know what I did. I listened to the crazy. And then I hopped in the car and drove to Sherwin Williams and bought myself a quart of paint.

Oh, sweet fancy Moses.

But here’s the thing. When I repainted the cabinets three years ago, I never did love the color. I liked it fine. I appreciated the fresh coat of paint that made everything look cleaner and more updated. But the color was way more mint-y than I thought it would be, and I sort of had my heart set on an apple-y green. I chickened out on the apple green because I was scared it would be too much color, and I went with something that I considered a little bit more safe.

Today, though, I decided that if I paint the cabinets apple green and they’re completely obnoxious, I can paint them again. Because part of the fun of having a house that was built in 1974 is knowing that at one point it was made of groovy, and heaven knows that I do enjoy the groovy. Plus, I think there are people who create spaces that are subdued and elegant – and I think that I am not one of those people. I love living in the middle of a whole bunch of color. Anyway, I guess we’ll see how it all turns out. I’ll post pictures whenever I finish.

Unless it’s all a disaster, of course.

Now. Let’s talk about something really important. Let’s talk about Jingos.

What are Jingos, you ask?

Well, I didn’t know until today. Target was kind enough to bring me up to speed.

Y’all know that I can’t resist a new snack cracker product. And it looks like they’re Jingos! instead of just Jingos.

Apparently Jingos! are enthusiastic! They’re also snappy.

I don’t know about y’all, but I think that “snappy” is an underutilized adjective. We need to give it more attention in our day-to-day conversation.

So. There were three or four varieties of Jingos! at our Target, and we picked the parmesan garlic.

Once we were home, I carefully opened the somewhat oddly-shaped box before I tore into the foil bag.

I was immediately struck by the crackers’ strong, cheesy notes with an undertone of roasted garlic. The smell was stronger than I expected – way stronger than a box of CheezIts – and I decided that Pepperidge Farm must have approached the Jingos! with a go big or go home snack cracker philosophy. After all, you can’t take challenge the CheezIt empire with some watered down cheese flavor. You have to create a cracker that’s cheesy enough to make the consumer think, “Is somebody cooking Italian food? Because I’m pretty sure that I smell Italian food right now.”

The Jingos! are actually really tasty, and I will buy them again. However – and I can hardly believe that I’m saying this – they’re almost too cheesy for me. There’s a mildness about the CheezIt that’s comforting, and there’s nothing mild about the Jingos! parmesan garlic. It’s a snack cracker with attitude. It’s also a snack cracker for grown-ups; I think the flavors are a little more intense than what most kids expect from an afternoon snack.

This is merely the opinion of an amateur snack cracker aficionado, mind you. I am certainly not a snack cracker professional, but I have dreams, people.

I HAVE DREAMS.