Following In My Shoes: October 2008

Thursday, October 30, 2008

PSF -- I Apologize if I've Crossed the Line

See that smile? Isn't it precious? Cute? Cheesy? Adorable?

But, it hides a dark, terrible secret. . . literally.

As I took this picture, just a few short minutes after boarding our plane to Oklahoma, my daughter was laughing because she knew I was about to be embarrassed AND disgusted.

The Little Lady had made a stinky.

It hit me like a load of bricks -- the most foul odor that can only come from a dinner of fine Chinese food. And I was TRAPPED! What could I do? The flight attendants were walking briskly down the aisles, shutting the overhead compartments -- effectively slamming the door on my idea to sweetly ask if they could wait while I left to change her.

I looked at my still grinning girl . . . she of the stinky diaper.

I did NOT return her smile. Instead, with grim determination, I braced myself and moved closer.

OH MY GOSH!

SERIOUSLY! WHAT had this child eaten behind my back? The odor was practically unbearable. My face flushed; while there was no one else in our row of brown pleather seats, we were surrounded by a sea of business men on their way with laptops and presentations to destinations unknown (well, I mean -- besides the destination of Tulsa, Oklahoma). I had to act quickly; this odor was NOT going to stay in one place.

I grabbed the Little Lady's big brown (yes, it really was brown) blanket and hurriedly wrapped it around my daughter, encasing her and the smell in folds of chenille. But it wasn't enough. Still, I could detect that pungent, thick smell. There was NO WAY I could endure this for an hour and a half!!!!

The Air Conditioning! Would it prove to be a God-send? I raised my right arm and twisted the little pointy air vents as far as they would go. Hard blasts of air began pounding us. I waited. . .
. . .

It worked, somewhat. The air kept the smell down, away from my nose, for the most part. That is, until she would move. Each time my impatient passenger fidgeted, swung her arms around, bent over backwards in lap . . . the odor wafted upward, catching my poor nostrils off-guard.

Please, God -- PLEASE give me a stuffy nose! I don't care if it's a cold or sinusitis. Just let my nose plug up NOW!!!!

Somehow, the minutes flew by and not a single business man turned to look at us. Not one single indication that they too were suffering in a mire of invisible poop. My nose stayed free and clear, (sadly) working perfectly. And eventually, we touched down on the Tulsa tarmac.

I was the last one to pick up my luggage from the baggage carousel.

We had to drop off a load first.

Just Me and the Crickets

Yay, it's 11:35 pm and ...... well, now it's 11:44 pm. Why the nearly 10 minute delay in one sentence? Stupid blogger here accidentally turned on (or turned off, I'm not sure) the "filter keys" (whatever those are) and pretty much jacked up the lower case/upper case. Yeah -- I'm smart.

p.s. Why does this woman have a mullet?

For those 9 minutes, I felt like Bill Murray in "Groundhog Day" -- each minute consisted of me, dumbfounded and frustrated, holding down the shift key and counting to 8 for the little filter-key window to pop. Once it popped up, was I able to effectively fix the problem? Well, since it took 9 minutes to correct my idiocy, the answer is obviously and emphatically NO!!!!!!!!!

Ugh! This post was supposed to be about how I'm having bouts of insomnia . . . how I've spent each night this week up till nearly 5 am . . . how tonight is probably going to be the same . . . how I might as well stay up because the Little Lady and I have to catch the red-eye to Tulsa (dang, is that a country song or what?).

But, no -- this post ends up highlighting how ridiculous I am and how I can manage to write a post about nothing.

I sooooo do not "rock" tonight.

Semi Wordless Wednesday

Anyone else tired of pumpkins?

Of course, I ask that completely tongue in cheek as I've been responsible for a good many of those pumpkin pics out in the blogosphere!

Fall has FINALLY arrived here in Houston; the thick humidity has evaporated in the wake of cool, crisp air swooshing in over the weekend. I can't even BEGIN to explain how happy I am to be able to breathe this air. S'Wonderful!

Because summer has a hold for so long here, our gardens -- crepe myrtles, plumbago, snapdragons, and all the others, are still blooming despite the looming monthly calendar change. Today, my baby and I walked around the garden, her little lisp sweetly announcing each flower we saw. Unlike her mommy, the Little Lady loves to be outside -- anytime, anywhere, and in any amount of humidity. She has no idea how much I normally sacrifice to take her outside.

But -- there was no sacrifice today. I gladly stepped outdoors, tot and toys in hand (er, arms), to enjoy our late blooming flowers on a beautiful day.

Now . . . if only the bleepity blank mosquitoes would LEAVE!

Whu' Chu Lookin' At, Willis?

THAT'S what I feel like SCREAMING every time my husband sits next to me.

Now, before I continue, I must put out my disclaimer:

Yes, I love my husband.

Yes, I love spending time with my husband.

Yes, I'm glad that I have a husband genuinely interested in my hobbies.

BUT............................

Does he HAVE to look over my shoulder when I'm blogging, checking email, reading a book, or designing?

I know (and he knows and now Y'ALL know) that I have absolutely nothing to hide. But, I still like my privacy. Maybe I'm just weird like that, but I really don't think so. This is MY TIME!!!!

I mean, is it really too much to ask that I be able to sit on the couch, laptop on my lap (yes, I'm literal like that), and spend time being nosy about the lives of others????? I'M supposed to be the nosy one -- that's why I like blogging so much.

What's he so worried about that he's got to try to "Be All Up In My Bidnezz?" (insert diva-liscious zig-zag head shake here)

Oh no -- I think I just got some insight as to why the Little Lady is such a Diva.

(blushing and running of to hide now)

The True Tale of a Very Old Woman

Once upon a time, in a muggy land called "Houston," there lived a Little Lady. She was a very precocious little girl -- always running hither and thither without a care. This Little Lady also liked to climb, something that often frustrated her Mommy because she would climb in her pretty dresses without any regard for the dirt that got on those dresses. The Little Lady was too busy and having too much fun to worry about getting clothes dirty.

Every morning, the Little Lady would get up, eat her breakfast, and play. Sometimes, she was a good Little Lady and she would play with her babies, her books, and her toothbrush (she really like to brush her new teeth). But, sometimes, she was NOT a good Little Lady and she would pull her Mommy's hair and hit her mommy with her dolls. When that happened, the Little Lady had to take a nap, which is usually what she really wanted all along.

One Sunday morning, instead of attending their normal church, the Little Lady and her family were asked to visit another Houston church, to help the congregation with a special service they were having. The Little Lady didn't really understand what was going on, but she was still excited because she got to wear her top with all the pretty buttons. She was playing with those buttons when they arrived at the new Church.

There were lots of new faces all around the Little Lady; this made her feel a little scared, so she hid her little face, laying her head on her Mommy's shoulder. Her Mommy promised everything was OK and showed her how nice everyone was. Soon, all of these nice people, and the Little Lady's parents, were singing the Church songs. The Little Lady liked how this sounded and she applauded and applauded each time the singing stopped. She thought it sounded sooooo good.

Unfortunately, the Little Lady also thought that climbing all over the chairs was good. When she wouldn't stop, the Mommy had no choice but to take the Little Lady to the nursery, where they stayed for the rest of the service. As soon as the service was over, the Little Lady and her Mommy went back to the main building for the church dinner. And, THAT'S where she met the Little Old Woman.

The Little Old Woman was very, very, VERY old. She was so old that her eyes were cloudy and dim. She was so old that her face was full of deep, deep lines -- lines that were vertical, horizontal, AND diagonal. She was SO old that her front teeth were broken, chipped, and some were even missing! She was so old that this Little Old Woman's son had to help her eat and drink her meal . . . . just like the Little Lady's mommy helped HER eat!

But, the Little Lady wasn't scared of this Little Old Woman. Oh, no! She was FASCINATED by this new person. And the Little Old Woman was FASCINATED by the Little Lady. She laughed every time the Little Lady blew raspberries and every time the Little Lady squealed and tried to climb on the table.

"That little girl is going to be a climber! I can tell," croaked the Little Old Woman.

"Oooo," the Little Old Woman screeched, "Look at those big brown eyes! You don't see many babies with eyes that color!" (The Little Lady's Mommy didn't tell her that her little girl's eyes were actually bright blue)

"She has got such gorgeous brunette coloring -- you don't see many babies with hair that dark color," she confidently whispered to the Little Lady's Mommy. The Mommy just smiled and thanked her, without mentioning that the Little Lady's hair was a light golden brown.

The Little Lady just kept playing, in between bites of the church dinner -- climbing back and forth from her Mommy and Daddy. Everything she did absolutely delighted the Little Old Woman . . . so much so that the Little Old Woman gave the Little Lady one of her cookies. The Little Lady LOVED the cookie, munching and sucking and bitting it till it was completely gone.

The Little Old Woman's laughter cackled at this sight. The Little Lady's Mommy smiled as she watched this pair of opposites -- the Little Lady and the Little Old Woman.

"Hey!" The Mommy's eyes swung over to the Little Old Woman's very wrinkled face, who was leaning in as though to confide some deep, dark secret. The Little Old Woman grinned and gestured with her crippled, misshapen fingers at the Little Lady.

"I don't think she's going to be delayed!" she proudly uttered in her raspy, scratchy old voice. The Mommy wanted to laugh at this compliment, but she knew the Little Old Woman was serious, so she just agreed and thanked her.

Soon, it was time to go. The Little Old Woman waved her bony fingers and asked the Little Lady, "Can you tell me bye-bye?"

But, the Little Lady wouldn't tell her good-bye. Instead, she raised her sticky hand to her mouth and began blowing sweet kisses to her new friend. Over and over, she sent kisses across the table, where the Little Old Woman pretended to catch them. The Little Lady's Mommy and the Little Old Woman's Son laughed to see the two new friends playing.

The Little Lady had to leave. Her Mommy buckled her in the pink and brown car seat and soon the family was driving through the crowded streets of muggy Houston. It didn't take long for the Little Lady's eyelids to get heavy and close in sleep. It had been a long, busy day for such a little lady.

A Scrapbook of a Different Color

Well, I'm a sorry scrapper -- I did NOT make a scrapbook page for the Little Lady's trip to the Pumpkin Patch.

Wait! Before you stone me, ostracize me, or "un-follow" me let me explain.

I was busy.

"Oh, yeah? Well, everyone's busy! What makes your busyness so unique?" (I know that's what you're thinking!)

Here's why my level of busyness is special: I launched a business this week.

Ladies and Gentleman (men -- not sure if there's more than one guy that reads this blog), I present .. ... ... ......................................

Blog Candy Designs -- another blog design business!!!!

Anonymous, Fictional Reader: But, Rachel, why did you do this? What makes you think you're WORTHY of starting this endeavor?

Rachel: Ah, dear AFR, the answer is simple: I love playing around with blog layouts, but there's only so much I can do to my own without frustrating the people who stop by every day. I needed an outlet for my Blog Makeover Addiction (it's a serious addiction, second only to Caffeine Addiction).

Anonymous, Fictional Reader: But, Rachel, you're a Stay at Home Mommy! How do you have time for this?

Rachel: Hello? Ever heard of naptime and bedtime?

Anonymous, Fictional Reader: Are you going to be too expensive for me to hire? I mean, come on -- have you SEEN the yahoo headlines about the economy?

Rachel: Don't you worry about that, AFR. Currently, I have FANTASTIC "Grand-Opening" prices. You can get a custom look for as low as $20!!!

Anonymous, Fictional Reader: What about when your opening ceases to be "Grand" and you're just another designer amid the throng of designers? What about your prices then????

Rachel: Again, AFR, DON'T WORRY!! I promise that I will always have affordable options. I'm not greedy! (I don't think I am, anyway)

Anonymous Fictional Reader: Well, have you actually designed for any blogs other than your own?

Rachel: As a matter of fact, I HAVE! Aside from the blogs of my little sisters, I completed two blog "re-designs" this week. Lori and The Neurotic Mom both approached me about getting some Blog Candy for their blogs. If you'll look below, you'll see their new looks! (and, if you click on their respective images, you'll be taken to their sites for the complete experience).

So, dear Readers and Anonymous, Fictional Reader, please stop by Blog Candy Designs and let me know how I can add some eye candy (I mean, BLOG candy) to your blog!

THE END

PSF -- My Mommy is Crazie

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

It's Time To Admit It. . .

What's the best way to end an addiction?

The Cold Turkey Method?
Self-Help Books?
Dramatic Intervention Courtesy of Sexy Benjamin Bratt??? (ooo -- that doesn't sound like a bad idea!)

I'm in need of serious help. I'm tired of the cravings, tired of the headaches in between hits, and tired of trying to figure out ways to buy my small supplies that never seem to last long enough. Yellowing teeth. . . fluctuating weight . . . none of this is attractive.

My drug of choice?

I love Coffee

My name is Rachel and I'm addicted to caffeine.

I know I've been talking about cutting back, and I tried. Really, I have. Last week, I tried for several wrenching hours one morning. It was A-W-F-U-L!!! Oh, my GOSH! Those were the longest 5 hours of my LIFE!!

Tuesday, I attempted to go the entire day without a drop of caffeine entering my feeble system. I even went so far as to make a cup of decaffeinated coffee, hoping that would trick my brain into believing my needs had been met.

My brain wasn't tricked. By 1 pm, I was jonesing BAD! But, I held out, trying to busy myself with other things. Then, the headache came. The world's largest elephants were slamming into the walls of my brain and sitting on my sinuses, frolicking in my despair. As each hour passed, they pounded and pounced on my poor "grey matter" with more and more force, trying to torture me into making REAL coffee.

I didn't give in . . . not that day anyway. But I sure did make some real coffee first thing the next morning, sighing with absolute relief as soon as the scent of hot coffee filled the air. That first cup of Sexy Joe (yes, I said FIRST) was pure heaven -- the best five minutes of my life! Afterwards, if I'd been in a movie, I would've lit a cigarette. IT. WAS. THAT. GOOD.

Now, I'm torn. I'm clearly Coffee's mistress -- there's no doubt about it -- but, how can I end this relationship when parting hurts so badly? I can't exactly write a "Dear Joe" letter . . .especially considering I normally do my best writing with a cup of coffee before me. That would be a little tacky, don't you think?

What's a girl to do? I can't think of any . . .um, excuse me. The coffee machine just beeped. It's time for me to sneak in a quickie with my caffeinated lover before the kid wakes up!

Wordless Wednesday

Was it a Dare?
Did something itch?

No, it was just Toe-Lickin' Good.

I'm FAMOUS!

Um, well . . . in my own mind anyway.

Jenn (of My Kids Are My World) interviewed me! Woo hoo for me!

Go check out her blog (and, oh yeah, READ MY INTERVIEW!).

;=)

I Like Weird Things . . . Do You?

You gotta love fun memes. Yesterday I showed off all the blog candy I was given over the course of the past couple of weeks. One of those (the Kreativ Blogger award) required a list of "happy things." Well, woo hoo -- I can follow those directions. BUT . . . I was also tagged for another list by Diva Ma.

What's a girl to do? Two lists -- oy ve, my head hurts.

Wait, I haven't had any caffeine this morning. Ok, so that explains the headache, but I still haven't figured out the two lists issue. Since I'm not being very "kreativ" this morning (don't forget -- no caffeine), I can't think of anything else to do but combine.

So, without further ado, here is the "Weird Things that Make Me HAPPY."

1. The J. G. Wentworth "Viking Opera" Commercial.

I don't know if this is a national commercial, but it is on ALL THE FREAKIN' TIME here! It is one of the most A-NNOYING things on tv these days. A cast of people parading around in stereotypical opera attire, singing about J.G. Wentworth in full opera, over-acted joy. Whoa -- isn't this list supposed to be about things that make me happy? Yes, and here's why it makes me happy:

The Little Lady PUFFY HEARTS that commercial. When it airs, she dancing like the Wiggles and claps her hands completely out of rhythm. Fun times.

Photobucket

2. Ok, the next thing isn't completely weird, but here goes. Asian Grocery Stores FASCINATE me. I love feeling illiterate among the labels written in exotic languages. I love being disgusted by frozen mud-fish and watching the live fish get chosen by customers, after which the store employee guts and dresses the fish RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! No, I don't love watching animals being tortured -- it's really gross, as a matter of fact.

It really comes down to the fact I kind of do just like being grossed out. It's the same reason why I love watching Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservation" and Andrew Zimmern's "Bizarre Foods." The more something makes me cringe, the better I like it. Now, I may change my mind if Hubby gets his Balute, but for the time being . . . this kind of stuff makes me happy. . . to watch, that is.

3. I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE Braunschweiger liverwurst. I hate any other liver product, but this creamy, pinkish, salty goodness makes my mouth water just thinking about it.

Would you believe that THIS stuff grosses MY husband out? It does -- he can't understand why I love it so much. Well, I can't understand why you can't close a cabinet door so I guess we're even.

Photobucket

So, there you have it -- three weird, odd things that make me happy. I know your life is now complete thanks to this knowledge. You're welcome.

A Week O' Love

Susan from Life in a House of Blue , Clarissa from The Diara of a Poshpreneur, Tena from Punky Monkeys, Kelly from The Neurotic Mom, AND Susan from What Happened To My House

This particular award has a 'Things that Make Me Happy" component that I will fulfill in another post. I will, however, choose the people that deserve to receive this award. These bloggers are all digital-scrappers who amaze and inspire me with their layouts and creativity.

MammaDawg at MammaDawg
Stacy at Havoc and Mayhem
Andrea at Prima Crafty Mama
Charmaine at CharmaineZoe
Jess at Nothing But Purple

Crackerjacks from Izzy N' Emmy and Kris from Now I Know What Love Is

This award is handed out to people who promote closeness and community among bloggers.
I'm going to pass this along to Diva Ma; she ALWAYS makes time in her busy mommy-schedule to visit all her bloggers and leave them positive, uplifting comments.

Trish from Sweet 'n' Sassy Girls AND HelloKittieMama over at the Bon Bon Gazette

I'm passing this on to . . .

Jay at Half-time Lessons
Johnny's Mommy at Boondock Ramblings
Carrie at Raising World Changers
Ali at Home of the Lazy Dog
Lisa from Blessed with Grace

Crackerjacks from Izzy N' Emmy also passed along THIS award:

Created By Alisha
As this is a photography award, I 'd like to pass it along to some bloggers whose pictures always leave me in awe!

Lindsay from Our Lives In a Nutshell
Jen at Cheaper Than Therapy
Kelly at The Neurotic Mom

And, finally, Elaine from Commotion in the Ocean created a great award to acknowledge her "commentators."

Since this particular award has NO RULES, I am passing it along to everyone who has left a comment during October. Feel free to snag this award -- I LOVE getting your comments and so does my husband! Lol, he spends more time reading what y'all have to say than he does actually reading my blog! :)

Um -- He Can Say THAT More Often!

Public Service Announcement -- what you are about to read is a combination of self-pity hidden in a syrupy-sweet tale about a husband trying to give his wife a compliment. Reading this post may cause "eye-rolling," "sighing," and utterances of "oh, good grief." If these side effects continue for more than four hours, please consult a better blogger for immediate relief.

Public Service Announcement for Wives -- if your husband is a fan of pin-up girls from 1940-1950, please do not let him view this blog. Below, you will see several pictures of popular pin-ups from that era. It is not the intention of this blogger to cause any husband's eyes to wander to women who are now either in their 80s or dead. Nope -- not her intention at all.

People that know me in "real life" know that I don't have the greatest self-esteem. I chalk it up to my 75 pound post-high school weight gain (oh my GOSH, did I actually write that for everyone to see!?!?!?!). When I look in a mirror, which doesn't happen any more than it absolutely has to, I rarely see anything worth bragging about. Instead, I fixate on the stupid acne (WHY won't it go away), the multiple chins, and the other "lovely" side affects of PCOS (Poly-cystic Ovarian Syndrome).

The other day, however, my husband made a comment that made me forget all of these negatives for a few minutes. He gave me a specific, wonderful little compliment . . . one that I've thought about several times since.

The Setting: One normal, mundane evening in Houston. The Hubby and I are sitting in our living room, enjoying the silence.

Suddenly, I could feel Hubby's eyes boring into me as I worked on the laptop. After a few minutes of ignoring him, I finally couldn't take it anymore.

Me: WHAT?

Hubby: I finally figured it out!

Me: What's that?

Hubby: What you look like. You've always reminded me of something & I've been trying to figure it out since we were dating.

Me: Well -- what is it?

Hubby: You look like one of those pin-ups from the 40s and 50s.

LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He was serious! To my husband, I am one of those sexy, provocative, curvy women. I'll take that compliment -- now, when I start to feel those nagging, negative thoughts, I remember what he said and visualize the comparison. Despite what I see, my husband sees something beautiful -- something desirable. Where I see things to hide, he sees a woman to show off . . . a woman worth bragging about to his friends. He sees a different version of me than I do.

I've looked in the mirror since he made his sweet simile -- I've tried to see the resemblance. I don't know that I see it just yet. Maybe, someday, I'll see a sexy reflection in my mirror and I'll "get it." But for now, I'm content with the knowledge that Hubby sees this version of who I am.

Congratulations to Karissa, who was comment #43; She won a shirt from Peace Love Mom!!!

And, Congratulations to Janet, Comment #9. She will be receiving a $10 Starbucks card.

Thank you so much to everyone who participated in my 1st giveaway. I'm looking forward to visiting all of your blogs this week. :)

Photobucket

Better Late Than Never

I promised my little sister that I would use one of her engagement pictures for Scrapbook Saturday. My "little sister;" I suppose that this new stage of her life requires a retirement of that title. She's not little anymore -- she's a young woman, a soon to be "blushing bride."

Wow -- I'm about to cry thinking about this. Hannah has always been a little girl in my eyes -- which from time to time has definitely irritated her! But, I can't help it. I was nine years old when she was born, and from the moment mom brought her home, Hannah was MY baby. I dressed her, played with her, rocked her, sang special songs just for her . . . played house and pretended that she was mine.

I was her "Other Mommy" -- in fact, when she was about the age of my Little Lady, she called both me and my mom "Mommy."

As we've both gotten older, our relationship has been slow to catch up with the changing times. Hannah started high school and then started college, but I still thought of her as that little girl toddling after the rest of us, trying to keep up. But, that's not who she is. She's not following behind -- she's forging her own life as a strong, independent, energetic woman.

With tears welling, I proudly acknowledge that Hannah is no longer "just" my little sister. She's my peer and friend. An adult woman right along side me.

Congratulations, Hannah!

The One Where I Tell You to Go Away

Today, I am taking a departure from my usual Friday Photo Story.

"Why," you ask?

"What could possibly tear Rachel away from trivial little stories about her silly Hubby and Little Lady," you wonder?

Here's the answer:

This beautiful girl:

Ladies & Gentlemen, today this girl, my sister, Hannah, has the BEST story to share with you all.

SHE GOT ENGAGED THIS WEEK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, please, as the proud and happy big sister, I ask that you visit HER blog and rejoice with her in this exciting change. She has sweet pictures and a cute engagement story (fyi, her Boy did a GREAT job . . . both on the proposal and the RING!!!).

Thanks --

To Whom It May Concern = HUBBY!

I'm so proud of my husband; for the first time ever, he has started to think about my birthday present and my christmas present EARLIER than his normal "2-days-before-it-happens-so-now-he's-panicking" habit. That's right, folks -- last night, during a glorious time of pillow talk, my husband asked me what I wanted for my birthday and Christmas.

Then, he fell asleep while I was telling him.

I thought about hitting him to wake his sorry butt back up, but I decided that might not be the best action to cultivate his attempt to plan ahead.

(Sigh)

Then, in a moment of genius, I remembered my Christmas List. That's right -- I have a list. I make them -- they're really not JUST for children! I love making Christmas lists, always have & always will. Of course, back in the days of Rainbow Bright and My Little Pony, the lists were a little bit more fun and less practical than now. But, hey -- I've matured. As an adult, a full-grown woman, & mommy, I KNOW what I need . . . what I REALLY need.

Here it is -- for the benefit of my sleepy husband who can't stay awake when I talk to him but who will read my blog -- my Christmas List.

(oh, and if you think you've seen this before, you probably have. I drafted this list when I guest-posted for Jen at Cheaper Than Therapy back when she had her Girls Gone Wild Weekend. I decided it needed to be revived since Hubby never saw that guest post!)

(1) An AWESOME Camera

* The brand and model is negligible. The functions of this camera are not! I expect it to automatically shave 45 lbs off of my butt and 20 lbs off of my stomach. Optional features should include automatic boob jobs, wrinkle removing, and skin tightening.

It would also be nice to have a "Best Looking Broad" feature, where, at the click of a button, the camera would automatically adjust everyone in the picture -- leaving me looking like the Hottest Mom EVER! (oh, um . . . yeah -- sorry to those of you who end up in pics with me!)

(2) Daily Massage Services

*Hubby, you and I both know that I am a much nicer wife if I have a daily massage. I'm more apt to cook what YOU want, more excited about YOUR activities, and more eager to engage. . . . (wink, wink). So, if you think about it, massages benefit you MUCH MORE than they do me.

With that being said, I would like two hours EACH and EVERY day for a neck, shoulder, back, arm and hand massage. If you are not able to provide this service yourself, I will accept substitute hands. While I'm tempted to ask that those hands be those of Tom Brady's (hey -- he's injured! What else does he have to do?), I will understand if you are not comfortable with that. Therefore, I will give you full control over who gives the massage. Just make sure they're good at what they do and that they don't smell. I don't like to be distracted by odor. Just sayin.'

(3) Another Tattoo

* Yes, I wrote "another;" don't look so shocked. I used to have a secret, slightly rebellious side. Now that I'm getting older, I want something that will help keep that secret, slightly rebellious side alive. (Sorry, Mom.)

(4) Automatic Diaper Changing Station

*Seriously, how AWESOME would this be??? Picture it -- NEVER having to deal with another disgusting diaper again! The Diaper Changing Station must be able to keep a wiggling toddler occupied and the kid's hands free & clear of "you-know-what." It must also have an automatic freshening option that makes the area, the room, and your child smell as fresh as roses (or fresh grass, for the boys).

Please, oh Genius Engineer, who may or may not be reading this, please start working on this. I promise Santa (um, Hubby) will buy it for me!

(5) Elf Cleaning Service

* This Mama, un-apologetically, would much rather spend time blogging than cleaning. Therefore, I would like a service of Elves to clean my house at night, after we've gone to bed. The work must be done silently so my sleep (and that of my HUSBAND'S) is not disturbed. When I wake in the mornings, I must be greeted by the fresh scent of clean bathrooms, with top-notes of orange oil. I am willing to pay extra if a hot bubble bath is waiting for me when I walk into the bathroom.

All laundry must be washed, folded, and ironed, if applicable. In addition, all baseboards, molding, and ceiling fans must be kept dust and cob-web free. No exceptions, Elves!

And, that's it -- just 5 simple requests. I think they should be easy enough to come by. But, IF you are not able to find this items, here is a secondary list.

(1) 2nd Baby
(2) Manicure
(3) 2nd Baby
(4) Pedicure
(5) 2nd Baby

Have fun shopping.

Semi Wordless Wednesday

Cost of Zoo Admission:
Who Cares?

Cost of Over-Priced Zoo Ice-cream:
Duh -- Over Priced!

Seeing Your Child Suck Face with Zoo Glass:
DiSgUsTiNg.

And all to see this little rodent. . . .

Photobucket

Can You Tell I Don't Drink Much Beer?

One of the perks of blogging is that you discover a ton of great recipes; there are soooo many bloggers that share their weekly menus, favorite dishes, or their own unique creations.

(I try to be one of them but I'm not really succeeding at it)

Today, I am making (it's still cooking and will be for the next 5 hours) Crock-Pot French Dip Sandwiches. I was over-the-moon excited when I found this recipe on Pennies In My Pocket. Seriously, aside from a homemade BLT, the French Dip is my favorite sandwich . . . greasy hands down.

This morning, after sleeping in till 10 (it was raining -- who's going to pass up an opportunity like that?), I scanned the ingredient list.

Roast -- CHECK (well, not the kind required but a roast is a roast, right?)
French Rolls -- NOPE
Beef Broth -- NOPE
French Onion Soup -- NOPE
Bottle of Beer -- NOPE . . . wait, CHECK

Yeah, there has been a bottle of beer sitting in our fridge for over a year thanks to a nameless someone who brought it as a "thanks for having me over to dinner" gift. Um -- thanks. That was a really good gift for us -- I can tell you know us well.

Anyway, I have a bottle of beer. "FAT TIRE" beer. Is that a good beer? I don't know, but it's certainly not one I've seen advertised. Is that a bad sign?

After a quick jaunt to the grocery store for the remaining items, I started making the dish.

Step 1: Open Broth (easy pull-top lid . . thank you, very much, Can Maker!)

Step 2: Open Soup (see above aside . . .and ditto)

Step 3: Open Beer

Step 4: Opening beer proving difficult; try twisting harder

Step 5: Stubborn beer lid/cap/whatever STILL ON! Get a little angry.

Step 6: Send desperate tweet out to twitter friends/beer drinkers. Beg for help.

Step 7: Misunderstand tweet from A Cowboy's Wife. BANG beer bottle against counter. HARD.

Step 8: Watch foam (or is it called "head") build inside the still closed bottle.

Step 9: Get worried about the foam and potential flying bits of glass hitting your eyeballs.

Step 10: Grab butter knife..

Step 11: Try to pry lid/cap/whatever open with said knife.

Step 12: RUN to the sink and hold bottle over as foam begins to escape from the bottle THAT STILL HAS ITS LID/CAP/WHATEVER ON!!!!!

Step 13: Silently curse the machine that created this child/light-weight proof lid/cap/whatever. Feel bad about cursing later.

Step 14: In last, desperate, teeth-grinding attempt, pry lid off and watch it fly across the sink.

Step 15: Watch foam splatter all over your daughter's high chair. Ignore the inappropriateness of that sight.

Step 16: Pour ridiculous beverage into the crock-pot and slam the cover on said crock-pot.

Step 17: Glare at beer bottle

Step 18: Pick it up harshly by the neck and throw it in the trash.

Step 19: Wish you had something to drink after such an experience.

I'll let you know if the $*#@)($* sandwiches are worth it!

Yesterday, we celebrated Columbus' Day with a trip to the Houston Zoo, taking advantage of the "free admission" Holiday. Of course, since we live in Houston, our little trip wasn't quite the lovely little fall excursion I had envisioned. It was hot. It was humid. I was hormonal (a fact my husband didn't miss).

And, that, my dears, is a combination that this Mama DOESN'T like.

It was with more than just a little trepidation that I loaded the diaper bag and picnic cooler into the trunk. All potential excitement had worn off; I really, really, REALLY don't like being hot and sweaty. (I don't like being hormonal either but I didn't have a choice about that -- who does? That's right, no one. Thanks a lot, Eve.)

After missing our exit (twice), nearly getting sideswiped by some lunatic woman in a cream VW bug, and circling around the "under-construction" zoo parking lot for 15 minutes, we FINALLY arrived at the entrance of our wild animal adventure. Our hot little family settled into the business of looking at lions, and tiger, and bears. Oh, wait! That's right, NONE of those animals were out today. Apparently, zoo animals take holidays too. Lovely.

Ellie and Elephants

Then, it happened; my eyes began to fill with salty water. Maybe it was the glaring sun, the nasty sweat (yeah, I sweat! So what?), or the steamy scent of elephant dung that caused me to tear up as we meandered through the zoo. Or, it may have been the sight of my baby . . . no, my little girl -- getting more and more excited as we visited each animal. Whatever the cause, things were blurry as I watched her recognize animals and call out their sounds, as I watched her squeal and pet the goats, and as I watched her take her Daddy by the hand to show him some furry creature she had found.

Today, she was a little girl -- learning, retaining facts, repeating the names of animals in her soft little girl voice. Today, it seemed as though she had left her sweet baby days in the construction dust of downtown Houston. She was a big girl walking around the zoo, waving to the animals, and making their sounds. Ellie and Goat

And, making her Mama cry -- right there in front of all God's creatures (well, except the aforementioned, sorry, good-for nothing, missing animals).

Yeah, definitely hormonal.

My FIRST Giveaway!!!!!!

Fall is here and the Winter holidays are just around the corner. Thanks to the folks at Peace Love Mom, you can get your wardrobe ready for Fall AND start your Holiday shopping!!!

Peace Love Mom, a unique clothing company, is the product of 3 moms who wanted to celebrate Mothers and their lives. Creating designs that will both inspire and empower mothers everywhere, PeaceLoveMom represents a collaboration and true celebration of motherhood.

Take a look around their site and you'll quickly see that their products are different, fresh, and perfect for today's mom that wants to be both fashionable & comfortable. Their clothing has been featured in numerous parenting magazines, and, chances are, you've seen some of their shirts worn by Kate Gosselin (of Jon & Kate, Plus 8). They also make clothing for children, as well as caps, totes, and jewelry!

Today marks the start of the "Groove Into Fall Giveaway!"

Buy It and GO PINK!!

First of all, Peace Love Mom was gracious enough to give ALL READERS free shipping through November 10th. Use the code INMYSHOES when you check out!

PLUS -- through out the month of November, if you purchase one of their Pink Happy Mom products, you'll receive an additional 20% off the purchase price! In turn, Peace Love Mom will donate the 20% to Breast Cancer Research!!!

Win It!

The Giveaways begins Monday, October 13th.
Entries will be accepted through Midnight on Sunday, October 19th.

I will be using a random number generatory to select the winners; please note, I will be checking to make sure you follow the entry guidelines. If the guidelines are NOT followed, I will be "pulling" a different number!

The winners will be announced on my blog (and emailed) Monday, October 20th.

What You Can Win:

One Lucky Winner will receive a shirt from Peace Love Mom!

A Second Lucky Winner will receive a $10 Starbucks Giftcard!
(since I'm on a caffeine-free kick right now, I need to pass this on to someone who can use it!)

How You OFFICIALLY Enter:

Visit the Peace Love Mom website and then come back here to let me know

(in a sweet little comment ) which shirt was your favorite.
Please choose one that I did not feature in this post!

How To Receive Bonus Entries:

(1) Post on your blog about this giveaway;
return here and leave a comment letting me know about your post.

(2) Grab the Giveaway Button and place it on your blog;
let me know, in another comment, when the button is up!

* Very Important;Please Read Before Commenting *

Please be sure to leave a valid email address in the body of your comment. If I have no way on contacting you, another winner will be picked. If you have already commented without an email address, please delete it and resubmit your comment.

THIS CONTEST IS NOW CLOSED!

Time to VOTE!!!!

(click on the image to be taken to the poll)

I submitted my school pictures to the Photo Contest hosted by Write from Karen.

Head over and VOTE FOR ME (Following In My Shoes)!

Killing THREE Birds With One Stone

I woke up with a horrible sinus headache, so today's post is very brief.

FIRST: Make sure you stop by next week! My VERY FIRST CONTEST starts Monday!!! I'm very excited to be offering a giveaway from the Peace Love Mom clothing company! You've seen their shirts on Jon & Kate Plus 8, as well as numerous parenting magazines!!!! Now, they'll be on Following in My Shoes. :)

In addition to the giveaway, they are giving a FREE SHIPPING code to everyone who stops by my blog . . . just in time for the "gift-giving" time of year!

There's more, but you'll have to wait until Monday for that!!! (tease!)

SECOND (and THIRD): Today is Scrapbook Saturday and the deadline for the School Photo Contest hosted by Write from Karen. Below is my submission for both!

As I've mentioned before, while I was teaching I absolutely loved Homecoming Week. The entire school body was bustling with an excited energy, as each day started with its own unique theme. Students and teachers alike dressed, each eager to outdo the other!

On Nerd Day, we had nearly 100% participation -- it was definitely everyone's favorite!!!!!!!

Photobucket

There was also "Pirate Day," another theme that ROCKED (sorry, slipped into my high school lingo).

Photobucket

And, by far the most popular, "Switch Day," where teachers dressed like the students and students dressed like their teachers.

2006 -- I was the Emo Kid
Photobucket

2005 -- I was a BOY!
Photobucket

Now, who dares to say school isn't fun??????

PSF -- Dueling Parents

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

I never cease to be amazed at the different ways Hubby and I approach parenting. As shown in yesterday's post, Hubby sees no problem with letting the Little Lady lick mashed potatoes off the floor. Me? I change her clothes the moment a speck of anything appears. Hubby never realizes when the Little Lady is getting into something off limits, whether it be my basket of unfinished knitting or the phone. I'm the one that tells her "No" every time she even thinks about doing something she's not supposed to do.

A prime example of our Type A versus Type B personalities was shown Tuesday night. Hubby surprised me by bringing home a gorgeous arrangement of roses and dinner. I was so excited; as spontaneous as my husband is about most things, he rarely surprises me romantically.

As soon as I saw the roses, I wanted to share them with the Little Lady, and she was just as impressed as I was. She excitedly pointed, squealing "Whwow-wuh! Whwow-wuw!" (that's "flower" for those of you who do not speak toddler-ese). The Little Lady even leaned in to smell the apricot flowers, mimicking her mommy's actions every second.

Then, her Daddy announced it was time to eat. We each went to our respective chairs and began to enjoy the meal. I was REALLY enjoying my time as Hubby took over the duties of feeding our daughter.

Midway through dinner, Hubby's laughter caught my attention. I looked up to see my child -- my daughter -- my Little Lady gnawing on meatless chicken bones. And, these weren't just any old bones. Oh, NO! Hubby was obliging the Little Lady's palate by dipping them in BBQ sauce, allowing her to have the ultimate bone-chewing experience.

Why was he doing this? Not because he thought she would nutritionally benefit from the marrow that she sucked. Not because he was trying to pacify her while he finished his own dinner. My husband did this just because it was funny to watch.

It was funny until MOMMY realized what was going on! I immediately went into my high-pitched, fast talking voice, reprimanding him for the scene before me. Hubby calmly ignored my panic, telling me that a baby sucking on a chicken leg was perfectly fine.

CRUNCH!

CRUNCH!

We both turned to our BBQ covered daughter. Brand-new baby teeth are very sharp -- sharp enough to cut through bone.

And THAT'S what it took for Hubby to realize that I was right: chicken bones and babies shouldn't mix.

(I won't insult him him by posting the current score of Mommy v. Daddy matches. But, I will say . . . I'm winning.)

Well, Gee. . .

"Don't die on me, 'cause you know how the house looked after the hurricane? That's how me and [The Little Lady] would be living all the time. And all that expired, canned food that I had? That's what we'd be eating. We just be 'batchin'."

And with those words, my husband eloquently (or not) let me know that he wouldn't be able to make it without me. His pronouncement came after I chided him for letting our daughter eat a bite of food DIRECTLY OFF OF THE FLOOR -- a morsel that he himself had dropped. (mashed potatoes, in case you were wondering) Apparently, he didn't realize that such an act did not constitute good manners.

Now, after hearing his reasons for needing me, I am stressed about living. This is an oddity for me as I have never been one to worry about my over-all health or my number of years on this earth. But, here I am, sluggishly sitting on our worn-out couch, worrying about the excessive amount of caffeine I drink and the unnecessary sweets I ingest. Oh yeah -- and the amount of exercising that I am NOT doing. That's right, my great "Running Adventure" stopped a few weeks ago . . . without a replacement activity.

Wait, isn't STRESS bad for your health too? Great -- just one more thing shaving years off of my life-expectancy. Thank you very much, Mr. HUBBY!

For the sake of my toddler -- 'cause she certainly doesn't need to "batching" during her childhood -- I need to make changes. I don't want my child eating expired food off of dirty surfaces, and I do not want her to sleep on the same set of sheets the rest of her life (because I'm SURE the Hubby won't bother washing them).

Running? You're back in my life; I'm sure we'll have a blast. Stress? You're gone. Caffeine? You're out the door. Chocolate? You're out too.

Well . . . maybe the Chocolate can stay. . . at least for a little while longer.

Semi Wordless Wednesday

Car-Pool in Comfort

(I'm sorry for the blurry aspect of this photo; it was taken with my camera phone as we were driving down I-45 in Houston. . . it was difficult to capture this at the highway speeds, but it was too funny to pass up!)

She CAUGHT Me!

Ahh -- how I've grown in the world of blogging. Remember how I was back in the day -- when I couldn't figure out how to work Twitter and was nearly in tears over my incompetence? That's soooo not the case these days!

Now, I'm a Twitter FIEND (in my own mind, anyway). I love it, especially since I added TwitterFox, which allows me to receive tweets instantly -- WITHOUT having to access my Twitter page. It rules. 'Nuff said.

Renee, of Cutie Booty Cakes, TAGGED me! Me! Apparently, Renee is secretly obsessed with me (and the six other people she tagged), because she requested that I share information that NO ONE could know from my blog. Well, Renee, because you're so sweet AND because you have a GORGEOUS new layout, I will fulfill your request.

1) I am sad, sad, SAD looking woman through out MOST of the day. Since I no longer work outside the home, I don't put on make up or tame my curls on a daily basis. It's so bad, that when I do fix myself up, Hubby is always inappropriately surprised -- as if he'd forgotten that I could look any way but "Pathetic."

2) Speaking of what goes on during my days, I am one of "THOSE" people. I talk to myself. I don't mean I just think out loud. Oh, no -- I hold conversations with myself AND act out whatever scenario I am imagining. When I cook, 8 times out of 10, I pretend that I'm hosting my own cooking show. (please don't commit me!)

3) Speaking of cooking, I started a second blog. The Busy Mommy Cooks is going to be my little way of sharing recipes, menu ideas, etc. It's a VERY new blog but it has a pretty cute design that was put together by . . . . ME!

4) Without any stupid segue, let me tell you about my next random thing. There's a hole in my shin. At least, I think it's a hole -- looks like a hole. Maybe it's just a divot -- like the ones I leave at the golf course. Either way, it is the result of a step up that went horribly, horribly awry. I'm kind of clumsy like that.

5) Like Renee, I am a singer. For several semesters in college, I was a Vocal Performance major. After college, for a few years, I kept up with performing through a community theater that specialized in Musical Theater. These days, however, my voice has forgotten how to sing an aria, instead settling for nursery rhymes and lullabies. There are times when I wish that I hadn't changed my major to English Literature. After nearly ten years without training and daily vocalizing, my range is not what it used to be, and I wonder, a lot, where I would be today if I had stayed on that first path. Hmmm . . . I probably wouldn't have a certain Boy living with me or a Little Lady drooling on me. That possibility is tragic.

6) In my real, every day life, I am not an outgoing, funny person. I am ridiculously shy and have a hard time making friends because of it. I'm intimidated of new situations and panic at the thought of going to a party or event where I don't know anyone. Surprisingly though, teaching and professional situations are not difficult for me. In professional situations, I am perfectly at ease and in charge. That's definitely not the case in the social arena. . . there I'm the cliche: a wall-flower. Thank goodness for blogging, where I can pretend to be outgoing and confident!

And, now, I must find my own 6 Twitter friends to obsess over. I've received a lot of new followers lately (thanks to GNO), and a few of them are listed below!

1. PinkaholicMom (blog: Aloha Monkey Tales)
2. MuthaMae (blog: Mutha Mae)
3. Tweety24 (blog: Nothing But Purple)
4. mommycracked (blog: Mommy Cracked)
5. hellokittiemama (blog: The Bon Bon Gazette)
6. MamaMulla (blog: Mommay's Mayhem)

The Rules:
Now, if you’ve been tagged with the meme game from twitter, you must post 6 things no one knows about you on your BLOG. Then you have to tag 6 more people. (don’t forget to let them know they’ve been tagged.) Leave me a message letting me know that you’ve accepted the tag. Let me know when you’ve posted your list and make sure there’s a link back to my BLOG. Have fun!!!

To the Ladies at Hubby's Work

Good Morning!!

First of all, I would like to applaud your bravery and skills in dealing with my husband. I know

ALL too well the shenanigans (there's another word for your list, Elizabeth!) that he pulls on you sweet ladies. I'm the one to whom he brags upon arriving home. I hear all about the ridiculous pictures he draws on the break-room's dry erase board. I know that he gave Katie a package of Pimento Loaf for her birthday, and I was supposed to laugh when he told me about all of the pranks (fake roach, bugs, etc) he pulled on Donna.

Ladies, I feel your pain.

I am completely astounded that none of you has strangled him yet -- I certainly would if I had to put up with all of the pranks, jokes, and witticisms that he dishes out.

And. . . . that's why I would like to give you sweet, patient ladies a little "ammo." I don't consider this to be an act of treachery or disloyalty. No, this is a matter of stepping up to help some sisters out -- 'Cause working with Hubby means you NEED all the help you can get!

(1) Hubby is TERRIFIED of scary movies. Yep, my big, 34-year-old MAN can't watch a scary movie -- he stays scared for weeks! (of course, I'm kind of with him on this .. . but that's beside the point)

(2) Hubby can't STAND meat dishes that call for cinnamon. But, he also is the kind of guy that will eat whatever he's served (I'm sure y'all know THAT'S true!). So . . . IF someone were to "make him something special," he would be soooo appreciative.

(3) Hubby is SICK about his precious Aggies and their lack of football prowess. He nearly cries (and cusses) during every game. So, any Longhorn or Tech talk will REALLY get him back!

There you go -- a few things that will help you along the road to retribution.

P.S. If you wouldn't mind -- Hubby needs to be "reminded" that he still hasn't cleaned his fish room. Last week, he promised it would be done by the end of each day It isn't. If you wouldn't mind "kicking him in the pants" for me over this, I would GREATLY appreciate it.

Sincerely,
The Woman Who Has To Deal With Him at Home

You're NEVER Going to Believe This!

(Pictures taken October '07; Scrap Credits: Pick of the Patch Kit by Raspberry Road Designs.)

I have a confession: I ALWAYS look for and/or stage photo opportunities for my child.

Whew -- I'm glad that's out of the way!

I'm not sure from where this need stems -- this drive to take a picture representing every holiday, every season, every milestone, and every emotion. Surely, I can't be alone in this. Is it just a "mama thing?" Or, is it just a "mama of a 1st child thing?" I've been told that the 1st child always has more photos than any other siblings. In an effort to avoid a family war, I won't confirm if this was the case among me and my sisters.

Ultimately, all I know is that I am absolutely fascinated by my daughter -- and I have been since the very first moment I saw her swollen, purplish-red face. I marvel over her eyes, ever expressive and ever changing. I'm in love with her soft, pudgy cheeks, the profile of which reminds me of those Hostess Snoballs -- pink, round, and scrumptious.

Her 1st twelve months of life revolved around the camera; I continually annoyed my poor husband, dragging him to wildflower plots, the zoo, and (of course) the local pumpkin patch. All in the name of "preserving the 1st year."

The need to take pictures of my Little Lady hasn't waned, and I doubt it will. I can't imagine a time where the camera stays shut in a drawer -- a time where I'm too busy or disinterested to snap quick (or staged) memories of my child.

With that said, I suppose I shouldn't consider this topic a "confession." It's an admission: I love to look at my child, and I will never stop taking pictures of her beautiful little face.

PSF - What is Wuv?

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

The Little Lady has always been more than capable of expressing herself. From the early, endless nights of colicky screaming to the current days of making faces at people in the store, the Little Lady have never missed sharing an emotion, expectation, or evaluation.

Her special talent these days is mimicry. As I've mentioned before, she copies everything I do or say all day long, thinking herself "big enough" to be independent and opinionated. Rarely does she really understand what she's repeating; her vocabulary (both what she uses and understands) is only around 100 words. There's no way she yet comprehends "debates," "saute pan," or "Rug Doctor" but these are just some of the words she repeated today.

But, yesterday, I learned that she does know one very important phrase.

It was bedtime, albeit a late bedtime as I hadn't done a very good job sticking to our nighttime routine. When the Little Lady isn't quite ready to give in to sleep, she can put up a good fight Last night, she tossed and turned as I attempted to rock her, giggled, and pointed out different objects in the room. Eventually, I'm sure thanks to my excellent Mommy skills, she started to calm down, eyes getting heavier and heavier under the drowsy drug of sleep.

In one last half-hearted attempt to stay awake, my Little Lady raised her palm to my face. I lowered my head, letting my lips meet the soft, baby skin. As I kissed that sweet hand, she opened her eyes and said a simple phrase: "Wuv You."

It was the one phrase, one expression, I have been trying to get the Little Lady to repeat. Every day, from the moment we wake up, I say the words -- sometimes slowly, sometimes in a silly voice -- attempting to teach her how to say them.

She never repeats me.

Maybe she's obstinate. Wait, she IS obstinate -- that's already clear at this young age. I guess she can tell how badly I want her to say the words, how excitedly I wait to see if those sweet baby lips will form those beautiful syllables.

She waited until she was ready, until she wanted to say the words. . . just like the rest of us. She waited until it was real and not just an automatic response, which makes it officially my favorite Mommy memory.

I do NOT need Vagisil, thank you very much!

Dear Advertising Executives,

Ok, I get it. I'm a girl and I watch girl shows: Project Runway, What Not To Wear, Murder She Wrote, etc., etc., etc. I do girly things and have girly issues.

BUT, does that mean, every evening, I must be subjected to discussions of "feminine itching," "feminine odor," and "happy periods?"

Photobucket

I just want to watch my favorite television shows, without embarrassing interruptions. I don't want to see a tired, disheveled woman, depressed because her Hoo-Haa is irritated. (Yes, I said "Hoo Haa.")

Last night, my irritation was caused by a stupid Vagisil commercial breaking into my lovely Project Runway time -- a commercial which prompted my Hubby to start making jokes. Yes, he gets just as uncomfortable as I do, but (because he has a 12 year old boy lurking in the dark recesses of his mind) he responds with immature humor. Go figure.

Is it really, REALLY necessary to pepper my evening TV time with so many of these commercials? Instead of instantly bonding with your sad actress, I get repulsed. Is that what you want from a potential ~~(please God, NO)~~ customer?

If you don't mind, please stop airing your commercials during the following shows:

Project Runway
NCIS
Murder, She Wrote (oh, and you can stop the Viagra commercials during this one)
Law and Order, Criminal Intent
What Not To Wear

With this accomplished, I promise I will transform into your biggest cheerleader, recommending you each time I hear of a poor female suffering, again, from some mysterious Hoo-Haa malady.

Sincerely,
Tired of Hoo Haa Commercials in Houston

Semi Wordless Wednesday

yIKEs
photos of Downtown Houston after the storm

After my husband took my daughter and I to San Antonio, he returned to our electricity-less city. The Sunday & Monday after Ike, he and a buddy drove around Downtown and The Heights, helping people clear trees and taking pictures.

The Chase Building

Photobucket