Men At Work

(Today's "Tackle it Tuesday" is not about anything I tackled; instead, it focuses on the last bit of post-Ike clean up in our neighborhood, tackled by a wonderful crew of men!)

Two and a half weeks after Mr. Ike dropped by for a visit, Houston, Galveston, and all other affected areas continue to clean up their broken power-lines, broken streets, and broken homes. Even after so many days, it is still shocking to realize the devastation that was unleashed that night. As the Little Lady, the Hubby, and I "hunkered" down per mayoral instructions, we heard the angry wind crashing, biting into the trees that towered over our house. We wondered, as we heard the sounds of unknown objects pounding the roof, what we would see the next morning when the darkness evaporated.

The next morning met us quietly and simply, as the electricity had left hours earlier. No alarms jarred us from the bed; the scent of hot, fresh coffee was absent from the overall smell of morning in our home. The morning after Ike was both strangely normal and eerie.

Yet, we were lucky. Unlike so many who woke up that morning, we had a completely intact home, dry streets, and safe and whole bodies. Our damage was minimal in comparison to what many others experienced. We lost a tree, many limbs, our privacy fence, and, yes, our electricity. That's it.

No, the past two and a half weeks certainly were not easy, but they were bearable.

Today, crews were in our neighborhood tackling the debris in front of each home. Since this is Houston, today wasn't a beautiful autumnal day. With the Texas sun blaring, the temps hovered around 90, but these men worked hard nonetheless. When the Little Lady and I stepped out to view the progress, each man cheerfully greeted us, infectious smiles beaming (of course, the Little Lady was being especially cute and charming to them).

When they came to our own small hill of broken limbs and trees, they were not daunted. Quickly, the men tackled the tangled chaos with modern equipment and good old-fashioned sweat.






Soon, only a scattering of dead leaves was left as Nature's testimony regarding Ike's fury.



Now, Life in Northwest Houston is starting to normalize -- right down to morning alarms and fresh coffee.

Woo Hoo!

There is one thing that I haven't done since returning to the Blogosphere. What could it possibly be, you ask??

WELL . . . .wait for it . . .

PASS on some AWARDS!!!!!

It's nice to receive some bloggy love, even when your blog isn't completely under your control (thanks again, IKE).

Without further ado:


Elizabeth, at Parenting Pink, and Kelly, at The Neurotic Mom, sent some nice virtual plastic my way.


Of COURSE, there is one little gal who definitely deserves this after all she did trying to keep my blog alive over the past two week: my sister, Hannah, of That Girl!!!!!




Jen, everyone's favorite at Cheaper Than Therapy, decided that my blog ROCKS!


I'm passing this award on to Sara of Momma Findings. Sara does a great job reviewing products AND she has great give-aways. Right now, she has a cute give-away for Halloween shirts!

Tena, of Punky Monkey's, is also deserving of this award. She has such a fun site and provides a great read every day!

Bridgette, of The Not-So-Blog, is another blogger with a rocking blog!!!! She is always having an awesome giveaway or passing along GREAT info!




Tara, from Tara's View of the World, and Juliana, of Juliana's Site, passed on the Proximidade Award.



This is a "Portuguese Award" that celebrates those who believe that blogging brings people close together. (Proximidade translated to English means vicinity, or neighbourhood.) According to the official text that comes with this award, these bloggers "aim . . . to show . . . friendship" and invest in creating community.

I'm going to pass this award on to two bloggers who have been working very hard the past few weeks to create a new way of bringing bloggers together. Their project is called "Twitter Girls Night Out," a weekly Twittering event that allows Women to come together to discuss, in real time, various topics.

Thank you, Jyl of Mommy Gossip and Carissa of Good and Crazy People!!!!




And Alisha, of Izzy 'N Emmy, sent the Brillante Weblog award.



This award is being sent out to:

Sarah, of Sarah Sue Eyes Are Blue. Sarah is a new blogger who has a great writing voice; she makes me laugh every time I stop by!



And, finally, I decided to give myself THIS award:


(Feel free to grab it if you're feeling a bit narcissistic like me!)

What's Grosser than Gross?

Did you ever play that game as a child? You spent your time trying to gross out peers with a scenario more disgusting than the one they had just told you. Good times. (PLEASE, someone tell me this wasn't just a game unique to the Hamill girls??)

I was reminded of that game last week as I enjoyed my last few days with my in-laws during the Great Hurricane Hiatus of 2008. Their little, teeny-tiny town is nestled in between the hills and curves of TX Highway 16. While it is large enough to have its own school district, there aren't any grocery stores, traffic lights, or town policemen. It does have a couple of little cafes, one of which was the setting for one of the cutest moments ever. . . and the most FOUL moment I've ever experienced.

When we walked in, I spotted an ENORMOUS cat. I'm talking FAT -- that thing was easily 25-30 pounds. Looking a bit like Garfield, it was just a great big, lazy, orange and white Tom known as "Mr. Kitty," according to a dirty laminated sign. Despite the fact that I am most definitely NOT a cat person, I took the Little Lady over to see her very 1st Kitty Cat. Over the past few months, I had been trying to explain the species known as Feline, trying to explain that they were not puppies, but the Little Lady just didn't get it. I only got blinks of confusion in response to my basic science lessons. Whatever. (by the way, the cat in the picture is NOT Mr. Kitty; this nice fat cat is wayyyyy to clean to be Mr. Kitty)

Here, however, was a way to teach through experience, and it went off without a hitch. The Little Lady, being as cute as she could be, squealed in excitement, shouting "CaCa! CaCa!" (her version of Kitty Kat) The rest of her lunch was spent pointing to that fat animal and "meowing," which delighted her grandparents and exasperated me (come on, it was time to EAT!).

Mr. Kitty swayed over to us, green eyes slowly blinking, every movement letting us know that HE was the one tolerating US in this eating establishment. Suddenly, with surprising agility, Mr. Kitty leaped from the ground to the gray wooden bench belonging to the table behind us. Pausing long enough for a quick tail swish, the cat then heaved his long haired bulk up onto the table.

Now, seeing a hairy cat, with dirty paws and matted butt hair, on a dining table is bad enough to bring on a small wave of nausea. But, before I could talk myself into suppressing the sick sensation knocking at the back of my throat, things got WORSE.

Mr. Kitty, in all of his dirty and hairy glory, turned his wide head back -- his green, narrowed eyes meeting my green, shocked ones. As if he felt challenged by my disgusted face, he twitched his nose and slowly turned away, walking toward a lone red bottle of ketchup. His tail contorting in and out of an "S" shape, he lowered his face to the open bottle, sniffing and then licking quickly with his gross little tongue. Licked. LICKED!! L-I-C-K-E-D it off!!!

Do you KNOW what else cats do with those tongues? Let's just say that they don't have sweet Mommies at home, sticking them in warm baths and scrubbing their hair with lavender shampoo!

Once he had tasted all he wanted, Mr. Kitty padded over to the other end of the table and laid down for a nap. A moment later, one of the waitresses came out and pathetically tried to "shoo" Mr. Kitty off. She was not successful. Mr. Kitty cast a baleful eye toward her. The waitress finally decided a direct approach was the best offense; she hauled Mr. Kitty off, grunting all the way.

The ketchup bottle was left on the table and left full of cat germs. The table received only a single swipe of a dirty dishcloth.

I guess I really don't have to say that we will NEVER be eating there again, no matter what "CaCa" lessons the Little Lady needs to learn.

WHOA -- When did THIS happen?

When one is without internet, cable, cell service and all other modern forms of entertainment, one must "make do" with whatever is at hand. So, while at my in-laws during our hurricane hiatus, I had the chance to read some oh-so-interesting books (Texas Wildflowers and Trees . . . The Birds of Texas . . . and Texas: Tales Your Teacher Never Told You . . . I am now thoroughly caught up on all things Texan). But, like all good things, those books reached an end. At that point, there was only one thing left to do: watch my kid. And that's when I realized something very, very, VERY scary.

I’m now the mother of a Full-Grown Woman, at least that’s what the Little Lady seems to think. I’m not sure when her self-image changed but she definitely believes she is equal with Mommy and Daddy.

Mommy has a fork? Then the Little Lady MUST have one. Oh, and it can NOT be a baby fork. Oh, no! Only a fork perfectly identical to Mommy’s will suffice.

Mommy is drinking from a straw? Then forget trying to use a sippy cup; the Little Lady believes she is MORE than capable of sucking a tall straw as well. Don’t believe it? Try withholding a straw. Just try it. You’ll see a carefully crafted meltdown, worthy of shiny golden awards. This is why I now carry straws in the diaper bag, right next to the wet wipes.

I'm not allowed to help with anything -- even art projects. Remember my cry for help with occupying my toddler? This was the result of trying to be a crafty mama:



That's right. No art that day; apparently, my daughter believes eating the paint is a better use of her time.

Every little thing seems to require independence now. Even during bathing she asserts her new title of “Miss Independent,” insisting on washing her own hair. No help from Mommy is wanted.

MINE and NO have replaced “Mommy” and “Up” as her favorite words. I hear them over and over and over and over throughout the day. I thought these words didn’t show up until the Terrible Twos???

Did I mention that she’s now capable of deciding when she wants to leave the house? Oh, yes – if Mommy gets to go outside whenever she wants, then the Little Lady can too, with just a cheery “Bye-bye” as she heads to the door. Thank goodness she’s never grown above the 5th percentile – at least we’ve got awhile before her little diva hands can actually reach the door knob!!!!!!

I don't think I'm quite ready for this independent phase. I find myself in panic mode all day long as I try to stop her from doing things by herself: trying to walk up the stairs, trying to plug in lamps, and trying to take plates off of the table. Why does independence have to involve all the dangerous things??????

Mommy needs some Dr. Pepper (again).

Praise the Lord and Flip the Switch!

THE ELECTRICITY IS BACK ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This glorious occurrence happened around 6:00 this evening, just a little over 24 hours from the time the Little Lady and I came back to Houston. We were so excited we danced, squealed "Yay," and "high-five'd" each other over and over. Ok, so the Little Lady had NO clue what was going on but she knew that Mama was definitely happy!

I don't know how Hubby did the no-electricity thing for two weeks; it was hard to endure for only 24 hours! I'm so glad that we girls were able to spend our 2 weeks with family.

From the state of the house, it definitely wasn't fun or easy. Hubby had candles, lanterns, matches, paper plates, bottled water, and shot gun bullets EVERYWHERE! Nothing had been picked up or cleaned the entire time we were in San Antonio. I had to bite my lip when I walked in and saw all the chaos. I guess no electricity is an acceptable excuse for not cleaning . . . I guess.

It looks like my little sister did an amazing job of keeping this ol' blog alive while I was away. THANK YOU, HANNAH!!!!!!!! She did a great job, didn't she? Thank you for lining up the guest posters and posting your own topics. . . although, there were definitely a couple of pics that should have STAYED HIDDEN!!!!!!

It's going to take me awhile to return the hundreds of comments that were left, but I will get that done over the next couple of days!! In the meantime, I want everyone to know that I GREATLY appreciate all of the thoughts, prayers, and encouragement that came our way. It really meant a lot!!!!

Good night -- I'm off to enjoy my nice and cool A/C!

PSF- Funny Face-- TGIF

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

This has been a stressful week for me. I've been away from my family and adorable nephews for over two weeks! I'm dying to go home!

Luckily-- I have the following to keep my smile until then.

If anything, The Little Lady (aka, my niece) is cute and adorable and lovable and funny and hysterical and hilarious... the list goes on and on!

She can tak the BEST pics, but she also takes the WORST. To spare Rachel too much embarrassment, I left the absolutely worst ones off the list. (trust me, when The Little Lady takes a bad picture, she takes a bad picture. I mean BAD).

But here are some cute/not-so-bad pictures.

Hope this brightens your day!

(STILL) yours (for now), Hannah.

For the record: I didn't mean to insinuate that all these photos were bad!!! Just maybe that first one ;)

oh yeah-- these are a result from raiding Rachel's myspace :)

Twice-born

I came across an article on MSN, perhaps you've already seen it yourself.

It left me awestruck, and near to tears. It shows just how miraculous our God can be.

Mother of four, Keri McCartney was pregnant with her fifth child and in her 23rd week of pregnancy. Eager to find out the sex of the baby, Mr. and Mrs. McCartney loaded up all four of their children and headed to the ultrasound as a family.

They waited as the ultrasound tech worked on Keri's belly, and their excitement turned to worry as they saw the frown appear on the tech's face. The tech ushered the children out of the room before informing the expectant parents that their baby girl had a life-threatening tumor.





There was a non-cancerous tumor on the baby's back that was as big as the fetus. And it was slowly taking her life. The odds of this happening was one in 40,000 pregnancies.

In most cases, the tumors don't grow this large and the babies are carried to term with no problem. Unfortunately, this tumor was the size of a grapefruit, and would not allow the baby to live past birth if something did not happen soon.

The McCartneys' went home and decided to give their baby a name. Macie Hope.

They traveled to the Texas Children’s Hospital in Houston for a risky surgery to try to save Macie's life. There was a 10% chance for success, but any chance of hope that she would live was enough for them to go on.

For the surgery, Keri had to go under a deep, deep, deep anesthesia in order for her uterus to relax enough for the surgey. Once asleep, the surgeons took her whole uterus out of her body and felt around for the softest, best place to operate.

80% of Macie's quarter-pound body was pulled out of her safe-haven in order to remove the enormous tumor. The baby was born for the first time.

They ran the risk of her going into cardiac arrest due to the outside air, so they removed the tumor and placed her back in the safety of her mother's womb as soon as possible; only taking 20 minutes. It took the rest of the four hours to sew and seal the womb water tight to withstand the rest of the pregnancy.

All the McCartneys' had left to do was pray, really. Pray for more time.





Macie Hope lived up to her name though, because 10 weeks later she was "born again." With a large scar on her back and a thick head of hair, she was born alive and healthy.

Macie Hope will forever be known as the baby who was born twice. But to me, she will always resemble how miraculous God is.

I hope this touched you as it did me! Happy Thursday =)
Love Hannah Banana

(For the original article, click here.)

Semi-Wordless Wednesday

I couldn't simply put just ONE picture (surely you know me by now). So I put one sweet and endearing one that provokes one to say "awwww!" and another that may cause one to say "BAHahahaha!!"

Rachel and Rebekah on "Black Beauty," with Papa's proud smile

Ellie's second 1st birthday party

translation: Hey! This is pretty good stuff!

The End

Love Hannah

Double-crossing

I (Hannah) am seriously taking as much advantage of this as I can before I have to turn the reigns back over to Rachel!! This is just too much fun being evil ornery.


Having full access (and permission) to Rachel's photo bucket is a dangerous thing!!



Look at her!! Idn't she cute!!





How about the Prom in Highschool? "She's a lady!! Whoa whoa whoa she's a lady!!"







SARAH might possibly kill me for these next pics (Rachel told me to do it, Sarah! I'm not kidding!). The following pics were taken at a place called Buca di Beppo, in Houston, where Rachel and Curt had taken Sarah and Seth (Sarah's hubby) for dinner one night. There are ALL sorts of pictures decorating every inch of every wall in that place.


Sarah and Rachel happened to notice this one





And this is what it inspired



Yup. That is totally Sarah from Sarah Sue Eyes are Blue (muahahah). I can't imagine how much bad karma I am creating for myself right now!!



And of course, Curt and Rachel found their own inspirational pic!





And here is the result =)





(And, again, for the record, those last few pics were RACHEL's idea for me to post!!)


Alright, that's all I got for now.


Hannah (the annoying, ornery, double-crossing baby sister)

An Odd Journey to the Dollar Store

A message from your sponsor (me!): Before you read this post--- JSYK (just so you know), Rachel was able to post an ACTUAL blog post just below this one!! Go read it and show her some lovin'!!


And now, Ladies and Gents, I give you guestpost Numero Tres!
(And thanks, again, Neurotic mom for your guestpost!).

Title: An odd journey to the Dollar Store

It's Lisa (Jonny's Mommy) from Boondock Rambling's, doing my first ever guest post for anyone and I'm so glad it is for Rachel at Following in My Shoes. Since I discovered her blog only a couple short months ago I've fallen in love with her, her beautiful little girl and her whole family. Thanks to Rachel's sister Hannah for letting me guest post!

With further ado I give you: "An Odd Journey to the Dollar Store."

“I’ll check this lady out. You have to go back in the first aisle and see this little boy. He’s back there all by himself and he is so cute.”

It was my little boy the sales lady at the local Dollar Store was talking about and my ears flushed with the red of embarrassment. I was standing at the counter holding things like crackers, Moon Pies and a glass to make oatmeal in at my office in the mornings. My plan had been to put the stuff down and dash back to the aisle to grab the child I had been unable to wrangle up to the front before, out of fear of dropping everything I had in my arms. Now I knew why I should have grabbed a cart on the way in instead of letting my child "roam free".

“That’s my child,” I said and told the woman I was on my way back to get him.

“Oh, no, that’s OK,” the bubbly cashier told me, ringing up my items. “She’ll keep an eye on him until your done. He was so funny. When I found him he was standing on his tip-toe trying to smell the perfume on the shelf.”

And when I, his mother, had left him he had taken several bottles of shampoo and hand wash off the shelf and was lining them up in the middle of the floor. How lovely.

With my items checked out I dashed to the aisle, only to find the other cashier recording my child’s antics on her cell phone. Yes. On her cell phone, people. Was I offended? No, not really, but it was kind of odd.

She “shushed” me when I tried to instruct Jonathan to stop taking items off the shelf. She then turned to her co-worker, like I wasn’t there, and said: “Look at him taking them off the shelf and talking to himself. So funny.”

The pair of them wandered off laughing, watching my child on the ladies little cell phone, never even saying “See ya’ later.” or “Hey, thanks for the good times." I was left to attempt to put the items back on the shelf in the right places, while Jonathan tried to take them back down at the same time, and then carrying him screaming from the store because I had interrupted his “fun.”

It was seriously one of my more surreal Dollar Store visits. There have been other weird visits, yes, but this was the most surreal by far.

An Actual Post From Rachel

My mother-in-law finally has her computer back, and in a rare, beautiful moment, I'm getting some online time here in the Hill Country of Texas. The sun has set behind the "mountains," and I just watched my poor Hubby drive away. In five hours, he will pull into our drive way, sleepily unlock the door, and fumble in the dark as he tries to make his way upstairs to bed.


I'll be here . . . crying.


I don't know why it was hard to say good bye this evening, but it was. I bawled like the Little Lady did today when her Poppy told her she couldn't have his Coke. I sobbed like the Little Lady did yesterday when her Nina took away the box of chocolate her little greedy hands had found.


It was bad.


I know it is only for a few more days but I'm tired of being separated. I'm tired of being in limbo. I'm tired of not falling asleep to the beautiful horrible sound of Hubby's snoring. I'm tired of not being able to reach across the bed and touch his arm. I miss him.


There's a lot of crazy in my head and Hubby is the one who keeps me sane. Hubby keeps me from over-reacting as a first time mommy whenever the Little Lady does whatever it is that she does. Hubby keeps me laughing even when things aren't so fun. Hubby makes me feel safe.


Ay -- I need to stop this. I'm going to short out my mother-in-law's laptop if I keep this blubbering up.


The main reason I'm writing, despite a slow computer and an even slower dial-up connection, is to let everyone know that I'm so grateful of your thoughts, prayers, encouragement, and guest posts!!! It's been awesome to hear, from Hannah, the comments that have been left.


Hopefully, we'll be back home soon and life can get back to normal. Until then, here's one little snippet of a Little Lady story.


Her Daddy came in Friday to spend the weekend with us. We're not sure if the Little Lady was trying to greet him, punish him, or show off her geographical knowledge. Whatever the motivation, this is what happened, per the conversation with my Hubby.


Hubby: OW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Me (running to the living room): What happened?


*note -- Hubby's parents are sitting with him on the couch, only they are ROLLING with laughter. I think I even heard a couple of snorts.


Hubby: YOUR daughter just walked across the couch to me.


Me: (rolling my eyes as I normally do) And???


(in-laws still giggling)


Hubby: She stepped on my crotch and said BANG-KOK!!!

(I'm "assuming" that's how to spell her phonetic rendition of that word . . . or phrase. I'm hoping it was a word and not a description of her action!)


Nina (mother-in-law): She really did!


Hubby: WHAT have you TWO been teaching her???????????


Me: Just how to get your attention, dear hubby.




That's it from here -- the dial-up connection keeps asking if it's ok to disconnect. I'll let Hannah and the rest of the guest bloggers take over.


Thanks, everyone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Things I have Learned

I bet we all think twice about sticking our quarters into a tampon machine the next time we are forced to use a gas-station bathroom! Thanks again, Jyl @ Mommygossip for the hilarious post!



Now, ladies, let's hear it for Guestpost numero dos, The Neurotic Mom, as she shares some funny and endearing lessons from being a mommy!





Things I Have Learned


Thursday, May 8, 2008


There are many things that I have learned since becoming a mother. And I am sure that there are many more to come. But the knowledge that I now have is invaluable. So I share it with you.


1. Never underestimate the lung capacity of your baby, regardless of how small or sweet they are.


2. There isn't a hibachi chef in the world with enough knife skills to cut a hotdog fast enough to satisfy a one year old.


3. If you plan on giving your child a bath, plan on both of you being dripping wet once you are done.


4. You don't know what nasty smells like until you find a bottle tucked in the pocket of your seat in the car that has been there for the better part of a summer weekend.


5. There is nothing more satisfying than a baby hug.

Aroma-Therapy!

Ladies and gentlemen, please refrain from ripping your clothes and smearing ashes in your hair. Rachel will be here soon, I promise!

Until then (to help keep her readers reading), for our first guest-post Numero Uno, I give you Jyl at Mommygossip ! She has graciously shared her dangerous quest, that is, using a public restroom. (Come on, we all know how scary those places can be!). So please give it up for Jyl!! (applause)

Aroma-Therapy!

I was frustrated yesterday when I was interrupted from blogginghad to stop and go to the bathroom on my way to pick up my boys from school. I make the hour commute daily and wondered why I only have to “tap a kidney” as my FIL would say when I am half way to the school, in a hurry, and stuck in the car? But, when you are fidgeting like your toddler about to pee her pantsduty calls, duty calls. (And, by the way, it is probably because of said toddler that this is happening in the first place!)

So, I pulled off the freeway, thanked the good Lord we have such easily accessible and clean public restrooms in this town (compared to other places I’ve been anyway), raced to the nearest gas station, hoped the toothless nice lady behind the counter wouldn’t noticecare that I wasn’t a customer, grabbed the key, and rushed in. As I washed my hands, I noticed a metal box on the wall right above the sink. Tampons, of course. Gotta love these metal boxes. They come in so handy at just the right times. And, even though yesterday wasn’t one of those times, I thought it was typical of a convenient store to nickel and dime me for one more thing nice of them to look after us women.

As I washed, I sang the ABCs (l.m.n.o.p…) just to make sure I cleaned long enough to avoid catching any communicable diseases. And just as the bubbles were making their way down the drain (t.u.v…), my eye caught site of the product description on the metal box (y & zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz). Beads of water dripped slowly, streaking the floor as I realized what I was looking at. Behind door number 1: “Black Studded.” And, for you lovely contestants, behind door number 2: “Scented.” I could imagine it now: pine-scented tampons with black-colored steel studs. Eeeeewie! and Ouuuuuuie! all at the same time.

Then I see it… CONDOMS!

Oh! Ya! Hey! Wait! These aren’t for me! These are for the truckerman this gas station thinks I am about to… Don’t they refer to this county as “Happy Valley”? Is this why?

Now, I know what you are thinking. What a prude naïve Nelly! Doesn’t she know that lots of gas stations promote pre-marital sex sell condoms? Rest assured. There is no such innocence here. See, the thing is that even though I WAS surprised to learn that the tampon dispenser was just a condom machine in sheep’s clothing, I WASN’T surprised to see condoms for sale at the local gas station. However, what I WAS BAFFLED by was the choice of the ”only thinking of themselves” male managementpowers that be to install a condom machine in the women’s bathroom over a tampon dispenser. Where’s the sense in that? I am not a major feminist or anything, but this feels a little discriminatory to me.

Then, that got me thinking about hotels and how they offer cute little soaps, baby shampoo bottles with their sudsy sensations, and even irons and sewing kits for crying out loud. What are we? Back in the 60s? Since when did I need to sew while on business or vacation—or ever? OK… I know… to fix a button or whatever. But, still. Who really cares about a busted button when your white pants, what is that scripture? Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as the driven snow? Well, the reverse of that, if you know what I mean. Anyway, condoms would certainly come in handier than needles and thread to be honest. But, what exactly are these places saying? That scented or studded, albeit protected, sex and mended socks are better than stopping a woman’s flood gates? Scary!

PSF-- The many faces of Rachel

Hello, again, Ladies (and Chris) =) Just one more post from me and then you will be entertained by a few guest-bloggers!



Since Rachel is a very faithful PhotoStoryFriday blogger, I thought it only best to post one for her-- ABOUT HER!! That's right. Rachel always posts about The Little Lady, or her Hubby (gotta love him), but I think it's time you see more of my beautiful sister!!




So here we go.... 3....2.... 1.... ACTION!!



Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek



Growing up, Rachel has always been the more mature and serious of the four sisters, but she also has a great sense of humor (one that has grown even better since she married a BOY!). She usually tries to be polite and proper (most of the time ;) )-- but here is PROOF of her silly side! May you all be witnesses!!

The picture on your right was taken when Rachel was a high school English teacher in the last couple of years. Most schools have a homecoming "Spirit Week" where the students get to dress up every day for a different theme. THIS theme, was--- you got it---- NERD DAY!!!

Yes, this is my sister Rachel, The Nerd!! (If you can't tell, she's on the left-- that's right-- the really really really white girl).






Rachel isn't just a nerd though. Little does she realize, she is also very cute (when she wants to be!).





As you will see on your left, we have Rachel being Cute. Adorably and sickeningly, cute. Rachel, like most of us, dealt with her fair share of "mean boys"-- but when she finally met Hubby, everything finally came together like a puzzle and it all made sense. He, however ornery he may be, is very affectionate and adores Rachel.

So all I can say is, YOU GO GIRL!!! You be as cute as you wanna be, you earned it!



And finally, I'll show you the woman that YOU know. The mommy-Rachel. The Rachel who loves The Little Lady so much that she has posted hundreds of blogs about her. The Rachel who prayed so hard and for so long for The Little Lady. Brace yourselves, ladies, the next pic may bring tears (it did me).




Here on your right, we have my sister holding The Little Lady for the Very.. First.. Time. Finally, holding her baby in her arms, where she's always belonged. I can only imagine what Rachel might have been telling Ellie in this picture... "I'm gonna love you and give you everything you ever wanted, and I'm going to let you get your ears pierced, and have a pony, and eat chocolate every night before you go to bed!"

Come on, I've seen enough TLC's "A Baby Story" to know every new mommy bawls like a baby and blubber's stuff like this. And I'm not hatin'-- I totally plan on blubbering my own jibberish when I have my babies one day too!








So there you have it. Maybe you already knew she was a nerd, maybe you didn't. Either way, Now you know!! But at least now you can see her from my point of view ;)

For the record, I had permission from Rachel to use whatever pictures I wanted!!! She just doesn't know what ones I picked yet ;)

Guest Post? anyone? Bueller?.... Bueller?...

Hello Ladies--- this is Hannah, again (go ahead. Groan.) I know. You've been waiting impatiently for Rachel to return :) she will be here soon!

She is still unable to access the internet, and may be that way for still awhile. She is returning to Houston on Monday (but.. they still have no power). She had to take the Little Lady to the doctor because of a rash, but she is doing better. Rachel has been sufferring MAJOR blogging-withdrawal! She told me, via cell, that she has been writing TONS of blogs out in her head; so you can expect at least 60 posts upon her return to the blogging world!

Until then you're stuck with ME!!!! (evil, sinister laugh)

"So Brain, what are we gonna do today?"
"The same thing we do everyday, Pinky, try and take over The World!!" (sorry, I couldn't resist).

Rachel thought our sister's last blog should be debuted here. It's about the "Ellie's Cheese Face" pictures that Sarah and I took this past weekend, attempting to imitate the following adorable picture of our niece, aka The Little Lady:

... This is what happened when WE tried.... (Warning: This may frighten small children)

FYI: Unless you want to continue seeing horrifying pictures of US on dear Rachel's blog, I suggest you guest-post (PLEASE!!!)!! Rachel would love it if you did, and I would be more than happy to post them for you! Just email them to me at hannah_noel_h@hotmail.com

Thanks for all the thoughts and prayers for Rachel and her family! Please keep them coming =)

Little sis, Hannah

Hurricane Update!!

Hey everyone!! This is Hannah, (rachel's youngest sister!)-- I'm posting a blog update on Rachel's behalf!!

Luckily, they didn't get the dirty-side of the storm where they live in Houston. They are without power and water, and they may be out of power for a few more days or even a few more weeks! As far as damages go, they lost the privacy fence around their house, and lost a LOT of tree branches. HUGE limbs are gone, but they didn't suffer roof damage from any of it (thank God!).

The Little Lady thought it was FUN And enjoyed having a slumber party in mommy and daddy's bed (even though they didn't feel quite the same..).

Now, Rachel and the Little Lady are heading to San Antonio to stay with in-laws, atleast until the power is restored (because Rachel NEEDS her A/C!! -- so does the Little Lady!). Curt is staying in town so he can continue working.

They appreciate and thank you for your prayers, thoughts and wishes!

Say Cheese!

Credits

Papers: Toadily Cute, Cute as a Button, Cocoa Wishes

Embellishments: Toadily Cute and Cute as a Button

For the past month or so, I've been patiently (and I mean p-a-t-i-e-n-t-l-y) trying to teach the Little Lady to smile on cue for the camera. Too many photo-ops were passing by, and I was tired of having to rely on timing for a smile.

Now, she gets it but the smile she generates is NOT her normal smile. The Little Lady normally has a very sweet, cute grin. It fits her -- she really looks like a little lady when she smiles.

Her "Cheese," on the other hand, is almost frightening! It lands somewhere between a grimace and growling expression, which I guess is what I deserve for trying to teach her to smile when I want her to smile.

Diversion from Preparation #1

I woke at the ungodly hour of 7 a.m. (what -- I make no apologies) to the sound of my husband yelling, "Yeah, well we're supposed to get in excess of 70 mph winds here. I think we'll be alright."

Hubby was talking to his grandmother, who called to let us know that she was praying for two things: (1) That we'd be safe and (2) that we would get a little rain out of it all.

Thanks, G'ma Edie. I think the rain part will be covered.

**********************************************************************

Later, but not "late" enough, the Little Lady woke up in a crabby mood. I was crabby too so we made a great pair as we headed down the stairs. It was clear that a bottle and Backyardigans were in order.

It's Racing Day -- Racing Day!
It's not Sausage Casing Day!

(yes, those were the actual words sung by some little fuschia colored kangaroo --

are today's preschoolers supposed to know what sausage casing is?

I must be even further behind on the Little Lady's education that I realized)

Hubby walked through about this time, drill in hand from screwing plywood, and was instantly drawn to the tv. Seriously, it's like a homing device for the guy.

A couple of minutes went by.

"Oh," he mumbled, shaking his head as if trying to wake up from a dream, "I've seen this one."

And that, my friends, was the ONLY reason why DH went back to his hurricane preparation duties.

Photo-Story Friday: Mommy Gets Ready for a Hurricane

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Today's story is a little different than my usual Friday posting. Why, do you ask? Well, if you DIDN'T read the title, we're expecting a visitor to swing by Houston late this evening.

This is Mr. Ike.



And, this is Me.



My apologies for having "raw" pictures through out this "drier than normal" post. I didn't have much time yesterday to play with photos. Today we're in a "what you see is what you get" mode. Just tough it out, if you would be so kind.

Ike is the 2nd hurricane I've experienced since living in Houston. Rita (remember Katrina's sister?) proffered the introduction to Hurricane Central. It was not the most wonderful of experiences -- 13 hours in a car took us exactly 60 miles away from Houston. 13 hours. It was awful.

This time, as we are not in one of the mandatory evacuation zones, Hubby and I have decided to stay in town. We'll still get the wind and rain, but we won't bear the main brunt of Ike. To be honest, the decision is a bit nerve-wracking now that we have the Little Lady. But, I think we'll be alright.

In anticipation, the Little Lady and I did a bit of shopping today. I woke up early, knowing the potential for crowds and long lines at the gas stations. The Little Lady was definitely not happy when I woke her, vehemently protesting from the moment I took her out of her crib. But, a quick promise of a bottle and a grocery store balloon had an amazing vanishing effect on her crocodile tears.

As we watched our local meteorologists and reporters give the latest news, she was in awe of the graphics flashing on the television. I guess it did all look a little bit like a Baby Einstein video -- bright colors rotating, odd people smiling for no apparant reason, and loud voices over-ennunciating simple words. She was still this serious when we loaded the car and drove to the grocery store.



I thought we would arrive early enough, but I was wrong. Already, water was limited to a few last cases and there was only one loaf of bread left. How do I know there was only one loaf? Because I'm the one that grabbed it just in time, much to the consternation of the woman who followed me. She cussed quite a bit when she realized the fate of the bread shelves. Thankfully, the Little Lady was too busy staring at other things or I would have heard some interesting renditions from a squeaky little voice!



(chilling in the empty water aisle)



(scoping out the empty bread aisle)



(the last loaf at HEB)

Despite the fact that she did not get a balloon (it seems Ike drove away the store's balloon lady), the Little Lady much happier by the time we left -- perhaps from the knowledge that she wasn't going to run out of diapers, thanks to Mommy's morning shopping jaunt. Whatever the reason, she found enough energy and joy to muster one of her new, cheesy grins.

At least, I think that's a grin. It's hard to tell.

So now we wait, watching and listening to the updates, nailing plywood over our windows, and filling our bathtubs with extra water. If you get the luxury of a safe and dry weekend, be thinking of us as we welcome Ike to Houston.

Unapologetically A Girl

I've never watched ER the entire time it has been a staple of American television. I never wanted to get into it; mysteries and crime shows are my niche. But, Wednesday morning, I found myself sucked into back-to-back episodes on TNT. They weren't just any episodes -- they were (I believe) the last two of Dr. Green's.

Thanks to numerous commercials, I knew most of the characters from the show. It didn't take long to learn their personalities, motivations, weaknesses. . . and it didn't take long for tears to begin falling down my make-up free cheeks.

It doesn't take much for me to cry. I can imagine scenarios, remember past events, or read a silly book and discover my eyes welling. Crying is just a part of who I am. Heck, lately even commercials have tugged at the ol' heartstrings. If there are any scoffers at such an occurrence, I dare anyone to watch a Cotton commercial or that sweet, sweet, SWEET Rice Krispies commercial where the Daddy enjoys breakfasts with his little girls. You'll cry. (surely it's not just me!)

In the last ER episode of my morning, Dr. Green, who had learned his cancer was back, finally came to the realization that he didn't want his final days to be at the hospital, watching death knock off those around him. He didn't want to be so obsessed with his job that he missed his last weeks, days, and minutes with his family. He wanted to just be himself with those he loved.

I don't know how I would deal with such a situation. I can't imagine facing the possibility of leaving my family -- my husband and daughter. The thought terrifies me and makes my heart ache. How would I deal with the prospect of suddenly, without warning, being wrenched away from the bright, inquisitive blue eyes of my Little Lady and the pale, warm blue eyes of the Hubby. How? I can't imagine not spending every day with them. Yet, someday this will happen.

I know, as a Christian, that I'm supposed to be ok with death. I know that death isn't eternal. But, I love my husband and my daughter and I don't want to leave them. Not even for a single second.

So, I cry. Because someday, I might be Dr. Green (without the tv show and big paycheck). I don't know if I'll be as graceful, but I hope that I'll always choose my family over whatever else is going on in my life. Because right now, after 120 minutes of ER drama and tears, I just want to soak up every precious moment, burn into my memory the sight of the Little Lady's sweet chubby cheeks, and breathe in the smell of Hubby's cologne.

(picture of Hubby and Me, welcoming the Little Lady on our adopting placement day)

I suppose there are reasons why my emotions have been bubbing below the surface the past couple of days . . . and even into today. The memory of 9/11 is everywhere this week, reminding us of how quickly our world can change -- how quickly life can be taken.

In addition, yesterday was my due date. Yesterday, I could have celebrated the birthday of a four year old little girl. The Little Lady's big sister, Lydia Faith, would have been four -- had my body been able to sustain a pregnancy.

It's funny how you can go weeks or months without remembering something or feeling something. Before yesterday, it had been months since I had really felt the loss of Lydia. I guess I can thank that on the Little Lady, who keeps me busy and focused. But, yesterday, while the Little Lady was slumbering, quietly breathing innocent breaths and dreaming her little girl dreams, Mommy had time alone.

Time to myself on September 10th for the first time in years. In the past, I was always working, always busy and distracted. I could make it through the day without breaking down.

Not yesterday. As I watched the Little Lady sleeping or playing or singing, I wondered what her big sister would be like . . . what she would look like. Would she and the Little Lady play together? Fight? Gang up on Mommy and Daddy?

I know this type of thinking doesn't serve any purpose, but these were the thoughts racing in circles through my head and heart. And, I was the only one thinking of her. Enough years have now past that no one else remembers the day a little girl was never born, was never held, and was never kissed. Not even my husband remembered what yesterday was.

And that's ok. I'm glad the the Little Lady has captured his heart; I'm overjoyed that she and her Daddy are best buddies. I'm glad that she is here to keep a smile on his face.

But, I'm a girl and so I remember things like anniversaries, birthdays, and due dates. I remember the little girl that I never got to meet. I'm her Mommy and that's just the way we Mommies are.

Semi-Wordless Wednesday

N.O. Gold Here

*I took this picture during a family trip to New Orleans, about 9 months before Hurricane Katrina hit. He was one of many street performers but stood out as the only gilded human statue.

"Do Whatever Makes Ya Feel Good"

What is it with guys?

Jen, at Happily Ever After Land, posted this morning about the "love letter" she thought her husband sent her. Turns out, he didn't send one (read her blog to see what he really sent), and, so far, he doesn't seem to understand that she really, really wants one (by the way, leave a comment on her post so her husband will "get the picture.").

Jen's scenario isn't a new one -- many of us have experienced this romantic letdown. We dream of roses and lovingly penned words read by the flickering light of candles . . . our boys are dreaming of football and see-through lingerie (lights optional). Not quite the same, it it?

My boy is the same. Oh, he has grand notions and plans to display the grandest of romantic gestures, but the follow-through isn't always there. Now, before I go any further, please understand that my husband is wonderful in many, many ways and shows his love for me in many, many ways (example: all last week he cleaned the kitchen before leaving for work -- just because he thought I would like it. He was right!). But, when it comes to being Romantic, sometimes his plans fall apart.

Let me give you an example.

Usually, the one romantic letter I get is given to me on my birthday or anniversary. Hubby is a good, honest writer and these letters always bring a fountain of tears gushing. Hey -- I'm a girl. Tears happen. I love these letters -- they give me insight into my husband's softer side and I get a "romantic-fix." It's nice.

There was one year, though, where Hubby's soft side went south. Wayyyyy south.

My 28th birthday arrived with a new gloom. Only 2 more years until the big 3-0. AHHHH!!!!! I was in a panic, feeling the pressure of aging before my time. It was awful. One afternoon prior to my birthday, as we were on the couch watching some random show, I remember suddenly bursting into tears. Alarmed, Hubby asked what was wrong. My response? (cue the sounds of blubbering and snorting) "I'm nearly 30!"

This dramatic outburst should have told him that I was NOT looking forward to another day of candles. It should have told him that he needed to don a pair of kid-gloves and treat me carefully. It should have told him that crass humor was not needed.

It didn't.

My birthday arrived. All day long, as I dealt with my hormonal and hyperactive 9th graders, I daydreamed about the letter and card Hubby would give me that night. I couldn't wait to read the sweet words, his dreams about our future, his love for me. It was going to be the one bright spot in a sea of dark, nearly-thirty muck.

Later that evening, he proudly handed me the card. I remember smiling as I turned the envelope over to open it. "My husband is the best," I thought.

The front cover didn't match up with my romantic daydreams. It showed a gangly, mustard colored dog lazily laying on the ground, with one leg suspiciously raised. Above his heads, bright letters mockingly said, "It's Your Birthday!"

I looked up at my husband, who was grinning from ear to ear. Then, slowly, I opened the card.

I was greeted by bold, black letters screaming, "DO WHATEVER MAKES YA FEEL GOOD!"

"Excuse me???????"

Hubby wasn't grinning for long, and, thanks to a quick phone call to my Mama and his Mama, he learned why that card was NOT appropriate for a wife.

So, Jen, I definitely empathize. Ugh, boys!!!!

New Blog for YOU!

I am thrilled, excited -- giddy even. Another sister has joined the dark side, um . . I mean "blogging world."

(Please insert a mental picture of me doing a happy dance. Wait, you can't picture it? Here's something to help. . . my shirt would be down, of course!)




(Still can't see me in your head, dancing away? Here's another example of my "skillz." Just make sure you imagine dark curly hair on this one.)




Yes, I'm excited to see my little sister, Sarah, has started a blog!

Sarah Sue, Eyes Are Blue

Of all of us (and there are four), Sarah is the funniest Hamill girl. She cracks all of us up ALL THE TIME!!!!! It doesn't matter what happened, Sarah will make the re-telling of that event hilarious. I'm talking "falling off of your chair, snorting really loud, eyes streaming with tears" funny!

She just started her blog last night, but already she has posted stories that had me ROLLING (I love writing in all-caps, if you haven't noticed). Her first two posts focus on her tendancy to be a hypochondriac (she really is -- it's so much fun!) and her recent trip to Costa Rica, where she proved she's a genius at converting dollars AND that she has a hidden "Antonio Banderas" voice I didn't know about.

So, please stop by Sarah's blog and meet the FUNNIEST Hamill girl you will EVER KNOW! (alright -- caps lock is now off)

The Pee Pee Dance

(subtitled: This is Customer Service?)
(sub-subtitled: Awkward Check-out Moment #329)

My brother-in-law's text message was simple: "You always have the BEST awkward moments."

Gee, thanks. That's not exactly what I was aspiring to be known for but, hey. . . I guess it's better than nothing. His message was in response to a text I'd sent, Friday, to practically everyone I know. I could NOT believe what had just happened.

Let me back-up.

First of all, I have put in my time at a register, working both retail and fast food as a high school kid. I remember the long hours, too few breaks, and the wear and tear on my body. So, when I am in a store or restaurant, I try to be sympathetic. I get it -- it's hard work. What I do NOT get is the belief that your customer should endure these hardships with you. As my Grandma would say, "It's just plain TACKY!"

"Tacky" was what my daughter and I saw on Friday. The Little Lady and I were at a local clothing store -- a store that always has a ton of Halloween costumes. While it is a bit early to be costume shopping, I wanted to see just how cute my daughter could be this year.

(Although, we set such a high bar last year, I don't know if Halloween can get any cuter. Seriously, how in the world can it get any cuter than last year's Bald Ballerina look?)

Unfortunately, I wasn't impressed by this year's selection; it was a disappointing collection of Strawberries, Ducks, Penguins, and Red Peppers. The same costumes as last year. I wanted something unique! I don't want the Little Lady to be Strawberry number 4, walking through our neighborhood. I was so upset at the sad results of our quest that I decided to buy a new purse. Every girl knows that a new purse is the answer to any bad momet. Even now, thinking about that new purse makes me smile!

It was with a smile on my pale, freckled face that I made my way to one of the registers. The sales lady, a tall woman who seemed to enjoy wearing tight white pants, and whose name-tag proudly declared her to be "Maggie," was not smiling. Her face was distorted -- twisting and grimacing in pain. At first, I was concerned for her. Was she ok? What was so wrong that it was visible on her poor face? Was her face always like that? I soon discovered the answer to my questions.

"Janet?" My sales lady spoke loudly, with a strong Texas drawl, to the young woman working the register behind her.

"Uh." Janet grunted and didn’t look up from the security sensors she was removing from a pile of clothing.

"Has Miguel not come back offa his break yet?"

"Nope," Janet replied.

"Awwwww, Man!" Maggie’s voice rose to a near screech. "I gotta GO!"

Goodness, I thought -- is she late for a doctor or legal appointment?

"Just go," Janet casually prompted, "When you gotta go, you gotta go."

Maggie's body started to tighten and her face became tenser. "OOOOOOOooooo," she squealed, as she began to clamp her thighs together and twist back and forth.

Her dilemma was perfectly clear: Maggie had to go to the bathroom.

Tense and stiff, she started bouncing a little, yelling to Janet, "Well, he better git back soon or I'm gonna go right here and now!"

Please, don't be serious! Please, don't be serious! I began chanting in my head. Please, oh, please, oh, please, oh please, don't be serious!

With customers gaping in her line, Maggie's "pee-pee shuffle" became frantic -- looking like a stressed three year old. Just like a little girl, Maggie was oblivious to how she appeared to anyone else. All she could focus on was the overwhelming pressure on her bladder.

Thankfully, for Maggie's sake, the sake of her too tight pants, and the sake of all waiting in line, Miguel finally showed up. His Big Gulp in hand, he sauntered to the register. It was quite apparent that HE wasn't in any hurry.

Maggie was. "GOL! It's about time, boy!" She gave one more quick, twisting shuffle and stepped back from her register. "Take over -- I'm about to pee my pants!"

Violently pushing past Miguel and his Big Gulp, Maggie left and, I assume (as I didn't hear any "Clean up" announcements over the speakers), that she made it to the restroom in time.

But, then I didn't really stay to make sure. I was in too much of a hurry to get out of there. I had to send out a text message: "OMG! You are NOT going to believe what just happened!"

I have Blogger's Elbow

It's true.

My right elbow feels smooth, soft . . .very soft.

My left elbow feels like a dried out snake hide.

I made Hubby touch both of them; he definitely wasn't impressed with the left elbow. I told him I didn't know how they were so different, but I really did. I just didn't want to admit the truth since he thinks that maybe I just might be spending a little too much time with the blog.

He moved his fingers around my scaley elbow, which was providing a wonderful loofah service to his fingers. Suddenly, he stopped. Sitting on the couch, with a puzzled look on his face, he mimed leaning on a bent left arm. Straightening up, he lowered the bent arm and pretended to type.

Yeah, Dr. Hubby knows EXACTLY what caused this.

So much for secrecy.

Scrappity Scrap Scrap

Here is the page that took me 2 days to make (thanks to my worthless computer).

I'm still learning how to digitally scrapbook, so my apologies that it's not as awesome as the others you'll see throughout Scrapbook Saturday. Wait, what? You don't know about Scrap Sat.? Oh, my Dear (insert "Ma'am" or "Sir" -- whichever you prefer), you simply MUST check out "Mama Dawg." Yes, I wrote Mama Dawg. Don't let the hard name fool you -- she's an accomplished scrapper and host of SCRAPBOOK SATURDAY!!! Join us in the fun!

Credits:

Papers from Backyard Explorer and LouCeeCreations' Bubble Trouble;
Embellishments from Bubble Trouble, and Spontaneous Delight;
Word Art by Tina Chambers.

BLEEPITY BLANK BLANK!!!!!

(Thank you, CharmaineZoe, for this VERY applicable graphic!)

I wish I had a laptop. Or, at the very least, I wish I had ANY computer that didn't move at a snail's pace.

I love digital scrapping; it's a cheap hobby and I don't have to worry about the Little Lady running off with scissors. I do not, however, love scrapping with my cantankerous computer. I just spent 2 days -- TWO DAYS -- working on a layout that should not have taken more than an hour. ABSOLUTELY FREAKIN' RIDICULOUS!!!!

Have you seen Office Space? Do you remember where the characters annihilated the hated fax-machine/copier? I would LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to do that to my computer. I hate my computer. It freezes all the time, can't handle more than one thing at a time, and does whatever it can to make my on-line life miserable! I know it's out to get me but I cannot figure out why???? I haven't trash-talked about it . . . till now. I've never dropped it on its head; I've never done ANYTHING to upset its feelings. Instead of thanking my kind care with lightening quick downloads and program starts, it drags its feet, making me wait 8, 6, 7, 5, 3 or 9 minutes for a program to do what I want it to do.

Well, as payment for your "kind" assistance over the past year, consider your days NUMBERED, you stupid piece of plastic and miscellaneous parts!!!!!!! I'm scouring Ebay, Dell, and Mac for my next best friend. It's only a matter of time!

Photo-Story Friday from The Little Lady's Perspective

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Passing It On

It's fun to receive acknowledgement -- ANY kind of acknowledgement. And, lately, I've gotten my fair share of that in the form of "Blog Awards." But, I have yet to pass these award on. It's not that I was being lazy, I just wanted to take some time to consider who needed to be acknowledged for their blog, attitude, and/or personality.

SO . . . .

I'm going to pass along some awards that I was honored to receive. I'm guessing that everyone knows the rules that usually go along with this so I'm not going to mention those yet again.

Instead, for those of you that receive these, just take some time to think about who you think REALLY deserves some acclaim, a shout-out, or "bloggy love" . . . for any reason. Let them (I'm not setting any limits on how many people can receive these) know that you appreciate them!

Without further delay --

The "You Rock" Award.

Elizabeth, at Parenting Pink, sent this today.

I've always thought that I rocked, but it's nice to have it in print! ;)

I'm passing this along to:

Jessica, at The Youngbloods.

This mom of twin boys was a member of my husband's youth group FOREVER ago. She has an adorable family and recently won quite a victory!

A-N-D

Katherine, of Katherine Unabridged.

I love her blog because she is an unbelievably gifted writer. Plus, (like me) she's determined to figure out motherhood, marriage, and life in general!

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The "Kind Blogger" Award

This is another award I've previously mentioned but waited to choose recipients.

The following blogger is getting this award:

Renee of Cutie Bootie Cakes.

She has an amazing perspective on life, challenging herself AND her readers with thought-provoking posts.

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The "I 'Heart' Your Blog" Award

I posted about this one when I received it last, but I waited to choose additional recepients.

Here are the people receiving this award:

Denise at Run, DMT.

This blogger is a marathon runner and her posts keep me motivated! She also just had her first giveaway and created a HILARIOUS v-log to announce the winner.

A-N-D

Andrea of Prima Crafty Mama

This woman REALLY is crafty and she always shares, whether it be craft instructions or free digital scrapping websites. I love checking in to she what she has whipped up -- I totally wish I had her creative spark!

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The "Cool(est) Big Sister In the (Blog) World" Blog Award




My little sister, Hannah (from That Girl) sent this my way. Even though we ARE biological sisters, the award is meant to be given to ANYONE you consider to be a sister . . . "whether she be your biological sister, yo' Soul-Sista, or a close friend that you look up to." (and, this is another one where you can give this out as many times as you want!!!!)

In the world of blogging, there are many (MANY) people that I admire and this next blogger is definitely at the top of that list. She is funny, a great mom, and incredibly encouraging to all bloggers at the Mom Blogger's Club.

Jen from Cheaper Than Therapy

I'm sure everyone knows her blog, how great it is, and how great SHE is at helping/encouraging the rest of us. Jen most definitely deserves some acclaim for all that she does.

A-N-D

Petra of The Wise (Young) Mommy

Petra is another blogger who writes incredibly witty posts that always make me smile. Besides, after what her daughter called her, she needs a "pick-me-up!"

WHOA -- Martha?????

You may have noticed Tuesday when I posted a quick write-up on Fall-Decorating. I had planned, while I was busy in the act placing pumpkins, to write just a normal post about the deco, but THEN I found The Inspired Room.

"Oooooo," I remember thinking. Here it was -- a treasure trove of like-minded individuals. Women bloggers who also were filled with autumnal cheer. Granted, they were most likely better decorators, but I knew they'd be forgiving of my poor attempts to make my house pretty.

Eagerly, the Little Lady and I took pictures of our carefully placed items. Ok, ok -- I took the pictures while "shooing" the Little Lady out of the way. She was left speechless. (Well, if she could form sentences, I'm sure she would have been speechless.) The Little Lady couldn't believe I had the camera out and wasn't making her stand still and say "CHEESE!" It was the first time in her entire LIFE (all 14.5 months of it) that I wasn't trying to get a quick pic. "Well, too bad, Little Lady, too bad. We all have to grow up sometime . . and Mama has blogging things on her mind now."

With the pictures taken, downloaded, and photo-shopped, I quickly spun a tale about my Day O' Decorating. Quick spell-check and publish. Done.

A few hours later, as my husband listened to J. Lieberman explain why (as a Democrat) he was supporting McCain, I revisited The Inspired Room. I was going to be a good participant and visit the other bloggers who also were "Fall Nesting" this week.

Eyes scanning the list of names provided by Mr. Linky, I looked to see if there was anyone I already knew.

Nope.

Nope.

Nope.

Wait -- did I just read Martha Stewart? MARTHA Stewart? MARTHA STEWART? MARTHA FREAKIN' STEWART?

Yes, there, listed as #13 on the list, was the name Martha Stewart. I tried to calm down. Surely, it wasn't the REAL Martha Stewart. I mean, come on! What are the odds that Martha Stewart and I read the same blogs? What are the odds that both Martha and I would be participating in the same blog meme?

I clicked on the name, ready to find out that Martha Stewart was really some guy named Larry, an obsessed Martha-holic who had a fan-blog dedicated to all things Martha. I expected to find pictures of his gourds and black cats. I expected to even see a pic of Larry himself, hugging a cardboard cut out of Martha.

I didn't expect an actual picture of Martha.

But, I found one. BECAUSE IT REALLY WAS HER SITE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PANIC! PANIC! PANIC!!!!!!!

Crap -- I just posted pitiful, paltry excuses for fall decorating on the same site as MARTHA!!!!!!! Oh my gosh -- what if she comes back like I did? What if she's a good participant too? WHAT IF SHE VISITS PARTICIPANT#36 -- FOLLOWING IN MY SHOES!?!?!?!?!?

I tried to calm down, assuring myself that she probably doesn't write her own blog or surf others. Probably she just has a well-dressed assistant, probably named Larry, who does all of this for her and just joined the meme to get traffic for his her blog. "Yeah, that's probably it, " I thought.

I didn't buy it. (PANIC! PANIC! PANIC!!!!!!!)

Trying not to hyperventilate, I called my husband away from the RNC. When he arrived, I took him, mouse click by mouse click, through my discovery. Then, he asked to see my pictures. I showed him.

He was speechless but his face spoke volumes. Hubby's eyebrows raised slowly, arching in disbelief or disgust (I couldn't really tell which). His mouth twitched . . . twice. His denim-blue eyes looked . . . and looked . . . and looked at my sepia toned images.

And, then, he slowly shook his head.

Even my decorating-challenged husband recognizes the sad, sad truth.

Semi-Wordless Wednesday

We took the Little Lady to the beach for the 1st time this past weekend. SHE. LOVED. IT.

And, all of the sudden, she was Miss Independent, trying to walk wherever she wanted . . .whenever she wanted.

This picture was taken as she decided to leave the waves in favor of our picnic site. Once there, she promptly grabbed the bag of carrots and dumped a handful of fresh Galveston sand inside. I'll be glad when all of her teeth are in so she can understand why sandy carrots are not a good idea.

Tackle it Tuesday = Nesting Here In Houston

Yesterday, my husband thought I was crazy -- although, even though he won't admit it, he has probably thought so for a looooong time. Well, the feeling's mutual, Buddy.

Wait, I'm getting off topic here. That's minus 5 points for me.

He thought I was crazy because I put out fall decorations. The downstairs now looks as though the pumpkin fairy got a wee bit drunk and shook her pretty little orange and red wand just one too many times.

I can't help it. Autumn is my absolute, hands-down favorite season. If it were up to me, we wouldn't have summer. I do NOT understand why you summer people rave about it. It's hot. There are mosquitos. It's humid. You end up sweating a lot. Ugh -- yeah, that's not my idea of fun.

Fall, on the other hand, is wonderful. The days and nights begin to cool down to crisp, beautiful temperatures; ahhhh, if only it were between 50-70 degrees all year round. Cooler weather just does something to me -- I stand up straighter, take in everything around me, breathe more deeply . . . I become truly alive in the fall.

The colors of an autumnal world are deep, vibrant, and warm. Reds, golds, oranges, browns, and yellows swirl in carefully conducted symphony, with the scents of pumpkin, baked apples, and burning leaves providing delicious top notes.

Sadly, I live in Houston, which means I might get one day of Fall each year. This is the number one item on my "Things That Make Me Sad To Live In Houston" list. We aren't able to enjoy crisp, humidity free days or the sound of leaves crunching beneath our feet. Forget about autumnal colors here. Our foilage goes from green . . . to faded green . . . to light brown . . . to just plain old dead.

Monday marked my attempt to rise above the purgatorial life of Fall in Houston. I couldn't take the heat anymore -- it was depressing me. I needed something to cheer me up. So, after dragging my husband to a few stores around town, I sprinkled a dash of autumn around our house.

Now, for the fall nesting pictures and my "narration." ;)

I started with the mantle, placing a garland to highlight a few pieces of Jeanette Glass.

Next, I remembered something in the hall closet -- the sad little wreath I made back in my college days. It's not the prettiest thing out there but it is definitely a reminder of good times.

An arrangement of gold, claret, and feathers sits in my faux-silver thrift store find.

This pumpkin's only job is to look pretty on the kitchen counter.

This collection is still waiting to be placed. Maybe that will be tomorrow's task!

Jaded Free Speech

Public Service Announcement for the Readers of This Blog:

The following article was produced after a weekend of perpetually watching and reading political news and updates. Thanks to little sleep (remember, the author is experiencing the joys of a teething toddler), a few wasted hours watching There Will Be Blood (a movie which left her poor linear minded brain reeling in pathetic attempts to piece together the chaotic bits of plot from said movie), and a lack of proper Dr. Pepper hydration, the author of this blog needed some way to vent a few political frustrations.

With this justification in place, please note that this break in mommy-blogging is only a temporary disruption. Tune in next time for more light-hearted true tales of the author's dorky, hot Hubby and divaliscious Little Lady.

Side-note: The author does not normally add "liscious" to her words, but, in addition to the previously mentioned TV and movie watching, the author also watched Project Runway. "Liscious" is this season's "fierce." She was trying it out to see if she like it or not. The verdict = she doesn't.

We've reached the time of a political season that I turn into a sarcastic American who suspects every candidate speech, action, and smile as having ulterior motives. Up until this past weekend, it's been fun to watch the political scene -- to see who might win this or that.

Now, however, I'm tired of the name calling, word twisting, and rumor spreading time that is an American Presidential Election. Everywhere I turn, whether it's a cable news station, the internet, my mommy group, or the grocery story, I see more of the same old thing: a he said, she said argument that goes around in dizzying circles without absolutely settling anything.

Rather than turning into an election of issues and ideas, our current election has already morphed into a den of sniping, growling beasts, attacking every involved person's past, present, future, rumored, or invented words and deeds. Everyone, conservative and liberal alike, tries to sway us with their fast-paced rhetoric, emphasising the "Hussein" in Obama's name or talking about Palin's "Troopergate" and alleged baby scandals. Newscasters carefully craft their sentences dripping with pathos -- spinning words to create emotional reactions rather than logical ones.

Sickening.

Instead of being able to trust anyone during the next few months, we have to rely on our own ability to sort and sift through it all, picking out the little bits of unbiased truths we can find.

Good luck, everyone. I'm sure the next 60-odd days will be a blast!

She Knocked It Down!

I love three day weekends. When I was working, I loved the extra day of reprieve from crazy, hormonal 9th graders who never completed homework and who didn't know Ethiopia was a real country. Now, I love the three day weekend because Hubby gets to stay home and experience the 24-hour roller coaster ride operated by the Little Lady. Occasionally, he tries to cop out of the day-to-day duties of parenting, but I'm very quick to remind him that he is, in fact, "tall enough to ride this ride." Then, before he can cry "Mommy's turn," I lock the safety bar in place and skip off to eat some cotton candy a very nutritious snack.

It's fun to watch him interact with her, feed her, placate her, and then become completely befuddled when she isn't thankful for any of it and demands, courtesy of a high-pitch scream, to do something else. Yep, it's good to watch Daddy go through all of this for a change. I enjoy my three day weekends.

With Hubby at home, I'm free to do a few more things than normal, such as taking off the 3-month old nail polish patches on my thumbs that refuse to wear away like the rest of their squad . You know, the "Mommy Detailing" that doesn't get accomplished during my work week. But, even though I've been excited all week for the chance to pamper myself a bit, I have yet to do it. Instead of taking care of my faded nail polish, I played with the Little Lady this afternoon. Now, before you say "awww" and pat my back, let me continue with the ugly truth that hit me today.

I get angry over the fact that my 1-year old daughter doesn't play fair!

(This bad habit has been going on for quite some time. This picture was taken last Christmas.

Do you see her offering to share her toys? No -- she just licked all over them to deter anyone

wanting to play. That's another bad habit we need to work on.)

It's sadly true! She just doesn't listen to me or follow my suggestions; instead, she wants to do her own thing. Her own thing -- can you believe it????

I have tons, literally tons, of fun games and ideas for us, if she would just listen. I'm good at setting up playtime. . . and bossing around those that are playing. I suppose it all stems from my 1st-born tendencies, which led me (back in the day) to boss my three younger sisters to the ground. We played my games . . . and by my rules. I even blocked and scripted the scenes! No freedom of speech in my imaginative scenarios. If you're going to be one of the Nuns secretly working for the French resistance, you'll do and say as I, the big-sister, pleases! (And, yes, that is a real story-line that we acted out; we also constructed covered wagons out of our beds and prehistoric caves out of fallen tree branches. We were a little over-the-top in our historical dramas)

Today, like all days, the Little Lady didn't pay any attention to me as we played with her building blocks. I tried to explain that we're using the blocks to create a Greek temple and that everything needed to be very symmetrical. I also tried to explain the importance of the color balance of our structure, showing her that taking the one green piece that I needed ruined the entire affect.

She didn't care.

And, just when when I had put the last little royal blue triangle roof piece carefully on top of the 2nd story yellow blocks, she reached over for the small red block that was serving as the foundational cornerstone, effectively knocking over my miniature masterpiece.

The NERVE!

Doesn't she know I'm the Mommy? Doesn't she know I have YEARS of playtime experience and can create the perfect story to act out? Doesn't she know that symmetry is very important to me and that it took several minutes to line all the blocks up just so????

Nope. She doesn't care. Why? Because she's (just) ONE. I'm (nearly) 30. It's high-time I grew up and quite trying to spend my days in "make-believe land." And, after all, they are her toys.