I Need Your Help

I have been seven kinds of lame lately. Of the mental, not physical, variety. Hence the canned posts and/or no-posts. I have had great difficulty thinking of things to say that would not generate the response, "so what?"

I've been thinking about who my "target audience" is. I think I'm supposed to know that so I can be an awesome blogger. And you know, draw a bunch of traffic, or whatever.

Like I even care.

It's not like I added a traffic feed to my site because I care that people come and read and love me or anything. And then deleted it because I didn't want to appear desparate.

Anyway, BooMama said I should know why I blog. And she's read by tens of people every single day so clearly she knows what she's talking about. Plus she's friends with the other Mama (you know, Big Mama), and if anyone knows their way around the blogiverse, it's definitely the Mama's. And maybe some of the Papa's.

When I started blogging I didn't think much about who might be reading. I really thought it was close to no one. I just thought, hey this might be fun. I love reading blogs. Maybe I can have one that doesn't suck too bad. And of course my head was just swarming with great things to say. I'd post every day - sometimes twice a day because I was just brimming, yea even overflowing with the interesting wordage. I got a few comments - even some from people I've never met. I was ridiculously thrilled! (I still am - at every comment. I love them!) It's why I've kept on blogging. I feel very much exposed even saying this, but I think most bloggers feel the same way - it's all about the comments.

My husband says I'm "wooking pa nub in all da wong places". But he doesn't have a blog. So he can't be objective.

So now back to what I'm supposed to be talking about; my audience. That word just makes me laugh. Like there are throngs of people logging on every day to come and sit at my feet and you know, learn.

Anyway, maybe I should be asking a question instead of drawing a circle around a certain demographic. Maybe I should ask you - Who are you? Why do you come here - or more importantly, why do you come back?

My brain is about the consistency of oatmeal right now, which is about as good for my mental health as a traffic feed.

So night-night, y'all.
Peace out.

Winner Winner, Chicken Dinner

I love quirkiness. To be deemed quirky is, to me, a compliment of the highest rank. I hope y'all feel the same way, especially since I will very soon expose some of your quirks with the interweb. And I applaud your willingness to shamelessly exploit yourselves simply for my entertainment. You are clearly people with your priorities in order. I like that about y'all.

Now, moving on.

I never knew it was such a common illness for people to have dish problems. I was totally unaware of the absolute repugnance with the way other people load a dishwasher. Then there are those who feel they must smell or rinse every dish before using it. Man. Y'all got some mizads, yeah? (Translation: troubles.)

Let me also say, I now feel much better about myself. Even if I take issue with where the cheese is placed on my sandwich and nevermind the fact that I know what I'd eat for my last meal if I'm ever on death row. Y'all are still way more weird. Way more.

I hope.

These topped my list of happiness on a page:
* "I hate mugs, so I always drink coffee out of just a regular drinking cup." (Hates mugs. Hates. Who knew the mug could be so disgusting to someone?) :)
* "I usually have a glass of water and a book in every room of the house."
* "I have a birthmark on my right hip that is shaped like a lobster."
* "I eat strawberries and tomatoes at the same time."
* "Nothing fills me with joy quite like when i see someone trip!"
* "I can't open my eyes in the shower once they've gotten wet until I wipe them off with a towel. That's just how I roll."
* And this one which should have a category all its own, "I gave a pig a heart attack and it died."

My husband swears I did the same thing to a horse, but he lies.

Now onto the winner of my sweet prize! Which incidentally does not include a chicken dinner.
My random number winner is Commenter #4!

Congratulations to Bren J. of Stranger in a Stranger Land!!!

I hope your Monday is happy happy!

Now, I'm going to get a drink of water. But I'm gonna smell the cup and then rinse it out before I actually drink from it.

In an effort to make y'all feel more normal.

I'm all about being compassionate to the freaks.

So, he thinks he's the B's and E's?

I like to know where expressions originate. This one is interesting. I think the part that I find the most striking is that the thing that's been carried on is a mispronunciation. Why does that bother me so much?

Bees Knees

Some will say that the expression means something small and insignifigant. You'll have to agree, the knee of a bee is pretty itty-bitty.

However another school of thought is an expression from the 1920's which stated, "The be all and end all of everything." in reference to a disaster. This was too long, so it was shortened to the "B's and E's" which was mispronounced as the "Bee's Knees".

There are other ideas out there that the knee on a bee, being so tiny yet so powerful is a work of art.

The origin of the expression "the Bee's Knees" appears to have been in America in the 1920s. It means something along the lines of "the height of excellence."

Do you understand the words that are comin' outta my mouth?!

Movie Reviews

Bloggy Giveaway Carnival - Free Prizes!

** COMMENTS ON THIS GIVEAWAY ARE NOW CLOSED **

Bonjour and welcome to my sassy world! If you're looking for prizes you're in the right place! Two of my favorite words are FREE and YOU'VE WON! So this is my kind of fun.

The lucky winner will score this hand-made Diaper/Wiper Case. I had made dat, me. It is both lined and machine washable. I made one for myself and I love it! It holds a travel case of wipes and 4 or 5 diapers neatly inside. Plus it's all fashionable and stuff. And what matters more when it comes time to change a diaper than being fashionable? And stuff?

(in all her glory)


(full view with diapers and wipes inside - beautiful AND useful)


(close up on the pattern and snap closure)

It holds it all together in one place in my gigantic diaper bag, and protects my diapers from bunching up. Like this.


So, here's what you do:
Leave a comment with these 2 things--
1. Something quirky or funny about yourself - strictly for my own entertainment. Because this is my blog, and I am the Queen.
2. All entries must contain a valid email address so that I can reach you when this is all over.

I will randomly choose the winner during the weekend of April 25 - 27 and email that fortunate person within 4 days of the end of the drawing.

US participants only, please.
Open to bloggers and non-bloggers alike.

For more prizes, get on over to Bloggy Giveaways.
And hey, come back and see me! Because when I'm not giving away free stuff, I'm busy dispensing sage advice and whatnot.

Well, I'm not sure that's really true, but you should come back anyway.
Because I like the attention.

Apparently I can't even make a truly average meal.

Overheard at supper tonight:

Sugarhead: "Are your chicken nuggets black?"
Sweet Pickle: "Yeah."
Sugarhead: "Mine, too."

I bet they wish their mama was a cafeteria lady. Then all their processed foods would be baked to perfection - a nice golden brown, and never. ever. you know, black.

The cooking? I do not love it.

Some words that have made me happy this week.

... which I am grateful for, because I was pretty short on the happy.

I can't.
Well, I can. But I won't.
I should. But I shorn't.
What part of shorn't do you not understand?
(The Office, Michael Scott)

You're so beautiful, you could be a part-time model. (You're So Beautiful - FOTC)

Do you remember the conversation?
Not word for word exactly but I remember there were some verbs. (more FOTC)

And a message from my sister that said this:

"Would you like to come in for tea and meet the Mrs.?" (Labyrinth)
Because she gets me, and what makes me smile. I guess that's what happens when you're identical twins.

I needed all of those smiles this week. Because this week sucked.

Dear Diary,

Day 1
I saw a lizard today. Without really thinking it through I reached for him and caught his tail, but he slipped away. I tried again- Success! I got him! I screamed as loud as I could (it was very shrill because I was terrified) and almost gave Mom a coronary. He flared his throat which caused me to panic, and Mom yelled, Let him go! Let him go! So I did.
After it was over and I could talk about it, Mom helped me to understand that I panicked because I was scared it might bite me. Mom reassured me that lizards don't have big scary teeth, and that my Uncle Dave sometimes wears them on his ears like earrings. That makes me laugh. I feel better. And now, I want to catch the lizard again but it hid for the rest of the day. Plus, I don't have anywhere to put him when I do catch him again, so we need to go to Target to buy a cage.

Day 3

I got my cage now and I'm ready. Cage in hand. Enthusiasm high. Camouflage be-decked, as I stalk the wild beast, careful not to be noticed. Lizard catching was no good today. Too cold, as evidenced by my knit hat. (Mom's saying things like, "Wussup? It's mid-April people!" Who is she talking to??) I was still happy to be out there though, excited about the possibilities, regardless of how slim.

Now, where are all the lizards??

Day 4
Lizards make me jumpy. Confidence not as high today. I will recruit Mom, who is such a sissy she insists on wearing thick gardening gloves to try and snag this toothless beast. Her hands are so slow I feel a little bit sorry for her, but I won't tell her that. I just say, "good try Mama. You'll get him next time".

Day 5
Still got Mom on the hunt. She's trying to be the hero, and I'm happy she's out here helping me. She's still slow though, so I still have nothing to show for all my labor. And she's still wearing the gloves.
Amateur.

Day 6
I think I'll ask Dad....
Victory! (Why didn't I do this sooner?)
I show Mom the fruits of my his labor and we celebrate. There is much hooping and hollering and jollification.
Maybe Mom felt a slight sting at being outdone by Dad. (I think she has a thing about being outdone.)
I spot another lizard and chase him around for a while. Mom coaches me from the doorway telling me which way he went. Finally she comes out and chases him with me, and then, she sticks out a bare hand and snags the lizard! Score!! Way to go Mom!

I now have 2 lizards!!

Today is a good day.

Puddin' by any other name would be just as sweet.

Spring Fashion Fiesta

Welcome to my closet. As usual I am late to the um, soiree. Call it fashionably late.

See what I did there?

The play on words? Yeah. Mama always said I was a smart girl.

Well Big Mama is hosting a big ole fashion extravaganza at her pad, and since I've long been a fan, and this looks like fun (although it also fills me with some low-grade anxiety), I'm gonna play along. I mean, truth be told, real people see me in this stuff all the time so it's not that big a jump to show the entire interweb right? Plus, you know how the saying goes, if Big Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

Or something like that.

I posted my coveted fashion pictu-mentary a few months ago, so I tried not to use the same photos, although I love some of that stuff so much that I had to show you again. Because this is a post about what I want. That's what we do here.

So here's a basic rundown of what I have. What you might call my interchangeable uniform. Look alive people. Look alive.

White 3/4 shirt and my one pair of jeans. I'm tempted to wear this every time it comes out of the dryer.

My accessory wall in my closet. The fancy way - on small nails.

The ever-faithful black gym pants. Mmm-hmm. I am a veritable haute couture fashionista. I got game.

These are the shoes I wear the most -
The daily shoe, the flip-flop.
The other daily shoe - the tennis shoe.
The dress up shoe - a strappy wedge that I heart big big.

The strappy wedge side profile. She's ready for her close-up now, Mr. Demille. And upon closer inspection, she is also ready for her replacement.

Black flip-flops -


I just wanted y'all to be able to see the very deep trenches in these shoes. That's how much I wear them.I am a slave to the flip flop but I'm really trying to find a more grown-up version of them. These have never done me wrong though, even in January. Because yes, I wear them year round. We live on the equator and summer's look like this:



Cartoon by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.

And I think in early August someone evil, does in fact turn on a small fan heater. Thank you for that. Whoever you are. Satan.

Here are some other things I would love to wake up to every morning. I would be so sassy. Do you concur? And quite different from my daily garb, no? But you know, none of these says " "spit up on me" like my What the Dizzle Big Scrizzle Bizzle? t-shirt. I cannot chase my Puddin' or my other two chirrens in these fancy clothes. These are made for places with real napkins and hands that are not sticky with chicken nugget grease and apple jelly. Except for those cropped jeans. I could wear those every day. With flip flops, or flats, not cute little sandals like that wispy model is wearing.















Now I just want to go shopping!!!
For more, go over to Big Mama's House.

That's why they're called business socks.

I saw this today for the first time and I would be remiss not to share it with the rest of the people who apparently live under a rock, or in a dark and very remote cave. Like me. Apparently.

Y'all.

I was not ready for this kind of hilarity. And now that I've seen it, I don't want to look away. Because it is so. funny.

WARNING: You may want to get the kiddies involved in something else - as this pertains to a topic of marital business.

So, I'm gonna shut up now. Because the longer I talk, the longer you wait to see this. And I've wasted enough time already.

Shutting up now.

Oh, sob!

These songs encapsulate what I feel right now, watching my children grow up....

More that you never wanted to know.

I'm it! I've been tagged, again. (Which by the way, should be pronounced like Forrest says it when he says he got to meet the President of the United States again.) My (real-life) friend Daphne at The Bayou Belles and Their Beau hit me this time. Thanks Daphne. These come in handy when I don't have any other, you know, material. I can always talk about me. I mean, that's why y'all come here right? To feed my narcissism? Well y'all are swell. And I am most certainly obliged.

Anywho, these are the rules, but since I fancy myself a bit of a rebel, I probably won't follow all of these. Because that's how I roll people.
That is how I roll.

The Rules:
1. Link your tagger and list these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

1. I always keep my toe nails polished (Should toenails be one word? It kind of looks better that way. The word toe looks funny standing alone.). Anyway, I keep them polished. Like a poodle. Even when I was big and pregnant like a rolly polly, I polished them puppies. I can't stand to look at my feet "naked". It's more than my girly heart can bear. Or bare. Whichever.

2. I speak French. Now now, don't get all excited. And don't corner me in the hall at church and try to carry on a conversation. It ain't gonna happen.
Here are some of my favorite French words though, and their translations in case you're in the mood to get your learn on.
ballet - balance
plié - folded
(You knew they'd be here, didn't you?)
le pamplemousse - grapefruit
la parapluie - umbrella
coneille - mischevious
Impressive huh? So yeah. I'm bilingual. I think it's a sign of genius.
That's what ma mama said.

3. If I make a sandwich and I add cheese, I always put the cheese on the mayonnaise side rather than the mustard. I don't like the way they look together, and it seems like the cheese is always more slippery on the mustard side... always trying to escape my sandwich. However, if someone else makes my sandwich I don't even care. I'm only neurotic when I'm in charge of the layering.

4. When I was younger, probably around the middle school years, I decided I wanted to be an Oceanographer when I grew up. I was inspired by all of the Jacques Cousteau books we had. I'd look at those books all the time, completely taken in by the beautiful photography. I felt pretty certain that that's what I wanted to do with my life. Be an underwater photographer/oceanographer. And then one day it dawned on me... the deep end of the pool strikes terror in my heart, how would I survive the vast expanse of ocean? Surely my heart would attack me to death. A career under water would never suit me. Nope. Oceanographer is not a viable career option. And from that day until this I've floundered. What to do? What to do?

5. I have greater than, less than confusion. The best way I've found to remember which is which is to think of this great t-shirt, that reads Math Camp > Regular Camp. Honestly, I'm not at all sure how that helps because I've always been a miserable math student. In my mind the shirt is a lie. But if I'm ever back in college and the memory of that shirt finally boosts me out of remedials, I'll buy it and wear it proud.

6. Two of my all-time favorite books are:
* The Thesaurus
* Inside Out by Larry Crabb. You can read great reviews on Amazon. Last I checked there are 9 reviews of this book, all giving it five stars. I think that's remarkable. What they have to say is much better than what my tired, feeble brain can articulate tonight. I will say this though. I read it over a year ago and it is still wrecking the way I look at what it means to be a Christian. In a very good way. It has left the strongest impact on me - more than any other book I've ever read, barring the Bible. It is not a cliché when I say it is life-changing. I can't wait to read it again!
So, Thesaurus, Inside Out - Both of these books are indispensible. And indescribably brilliant!

7. I'm somewhat of a slacker. I tend to get to the end of something and leave it undone for quite some time.
I shuffle my piles of papers together into a neat pile, preparing them for a more permanent home, and then leave them alone for weeks. Or sometimes months.
Or I set the treadmill to run 3 miles, then talk myself into quitting after 2.5. I think I may be afraid of success, because then I'll be left without my excuses. And my reasons why I Can't. People will expect things from me. And I'll be expected to deliver. And to keep delivering.
So when I see myself doing it, if I feel up to it, I make an effort to push past that point, because I really do feel better about myself when I've completed something. I wrestle because I have to weigh which is better: comfort or accomplishment. And because I have a penchant towards laziness, comfort often wins.
But I'm not without hope. God is truly changing me from glory to glory, from the inside out. So, no need to despair.

Now. I've tagged people before and I don't like to inundate people with these sorts of things, so I'll see if I can think of some new ones. Probably won't be 7, but I am Queen here. I got clout. I reign Supreme, and so what I say goes. Ahem, where was I?
Oh.
Yeah. 7 seems high - so I'll see what I can do.
And listen, just so we're clear, if I tag you and you totally don't want to do this? Well then, use your clout and throw some weight around. You make the rules. :)
1. Tonja - Sisters don't come any better than this! You can check her out at Raising Eagles. I suggest you give her a visit. She's very insightful and fun. I love her. ;) You'll like her too.
2. Fay - my new friend from Red River Interiors. I think one of Fay's spiritual giftings is encouragement. That's why she's my new BFF. (Hey Fay!!)
3. Linda at 2nd Cup of Coffee. Linda is a hoot! I love visiting her! She makes me laugh and she's a doll. Go on over and see what she's got brewin'.
4. Missy of It's Almost Naptime. I love her blog because I feel like we have a lot in common. We're both surrounded by shorty's so I draw from her experiences a lot. Plus I just like her. I struck that out because Missy asked to pass on this one. Go visit her anyway because she's precious!
5. Kristin at Life's Moments - My 2nd sister-in-law; she recently started her own blog. It's sweeping the nation, the blogging.

Fabric Happies

Just looking at these makes me want to sew. These fabrics make me want to get stitchin! I don't actually have these in my possession. I just think they're so fun!

Yellow and Gray, my two most favoritest colors. They make me trés happy.




Pink & Red tasties- I've always liked this color combination.






Minty Fresh. A breath of fresh air. Like a Green Apple snowball (or snow cone, depending on your geographical locale) without the syrup. And the ice. Other than that, it's exactly the same.




Ohhh, I'm feeling the craft bug coming on.

Maybe I'll host a giveaway. What y'all think? Want a chance to win a Diaper/Wiper Case and some cute felt barrettes?

Impressed and Entranced

This was emailed to me recently and OH. MY. GOSH. I'm trying to give you a better descriptive word than impressive, but my mouth just hangs open.



Sure, it's six and a half minutes of your life that you'll never get back, but you won't regret it.

All she wants to do is - all she wants to do is dance!

I am a ballerina.
Yes ma'am. It's true.
Nevermind that I only took a few classes. At the gym. And not a legit dance studio. What does that matter?

The facts are the facts. I have officially moved from a ballet enthusiast to my current status: ballerina.

Don't hate.

And y'all. I love it. LOVE. It.

My gym just started offering a class called Ballet Barre. It's taught by a real ballerina. Well, he's a boy, so what do you call that? A ballet dancer? Ballet boy? I'll just gonna call him Ballet Dude. So, Ballet Dude teaches a group class, and from the very first time I took it, it just sparked something inside me. Besides the pain in my calves. It's the same thing that happens to me when I watch ballerina's dance in small productions like, you know, The Nutcracker. I cry.

I didn't cry in class though. That would've just been awkward.

The point is, I see them dance, and I want to be one of them.

And now I am. :)

I plié', and port de bras and demi port de bras. I even learned how to spot.

That part's a lie. I just learned how to get dizzy faster. But I'm getting better every week.

But see? I know all the terms and everything. It's meant to be. We're like milk and cookies, rice and gravy - me and ballet. Because what God had joined, let no man separate.

Now. I don't have what you might call a svelt, ballerina figure. I'm thick in all the wrong places, because as I may have mentioned, 3 kids in 4 years. And I love me some carbs. Yeah. But I'm not a disaster. My form is not atrocious. I'm definitely entry level, a beginner. But I'm really romanced by ballet. I would love to become great at it. It's so beautiful and refined.

I make light of it, but truly, I'm truly surprised at how it has gripped me. I really love it. I love how it makes me feel. (Like a swan) I've always wanted to do it, but never would've signed up for recreational classes at a studio if not for this class at the gym. Now, for the first time in my life I have found something that I would happily forfeit my gym membership for. Dance classes. And that's sayin' alot. Because in the past Stretch and I have had some pretty tense moments about what was need and what was luxury as it pertained to the gym. It's obviously a need. Anybody can see that. I felt very much backed into a corner (panicked and terror-stricken) when asked to give it up.

But not anymore. A new day has dawned. Because now, and forever, I want to dance. I can't just jump ship and dancedancedance all the time like I'd like to, because being impulse-driven is apparently not the "adult" thing to do anymore. Seems it went out with hypercolor t-shirts. But maybe in a few months, after the summer. Maybe.

I hope.

So if you see me out in public practicing my plié in first position, just understand, it's an addiction. And be sure to stand back a little. I'm still a little wobbly.

**I've delayed posting this for a while because I'm trying to locate some photographic evidence that showcases my natural, inborn agility and poise. And by "trying to locate" of course I mean thinking about looking. I haven't actually done any, you know, actual looking. However, when I do find it you will see for yourself that I am indeed a delicate, nimble flower.

I know you'll be anxiously awaiting its arrival. Please be patient, as I am the least organized person I know personally, and this could take a while. By the time you've forgotten all about it is when I'll likely come across it, completely by accident I'm sure.

Anyway. That is all.