Friday, May 28, 2010

Ooooooh Snap!

Okay, me again. Tired of me yet? I know I just blogged yesterday, but here I am again, in your face. And, I am not even procrastinating which usually makes me blog a ton. Oh well…what I am about to blog about simply couldn’t wait. I had to get it out while fresh in my head. Mortification…in it’s true form.

Remember me talking about hemming my jiggly-suit top in the last post? Well, I did…and let’s just say it was no picnic. In fact, I was on the verge on losing my religion with the stretchy black material, my serger and anything else within 100 feet of me. Oh, it was bad. I was sweating by the time I was done, I could feel the redness in my ears and I think my blood pressure was maxed out. But, it is done. Not perfect, but it is no longer a dress. Phew. But, as I was modeling it in the mirror for myself, don’t worry…I am sparing you the pics, I realized it was just blah. It was just a black bathing suit, nothing special. It needed some bling. And I knew JUST what it needed. First, I fought the urge to bedazzle it, hahaha…just kidding on that, but I couldn’t resist. Phoebe, I know you laughed. So, after the grocery trip today I went to Michaels to find the perfect bling. Mind you, I wanted to go to Hobby Lobby and that is the entire reason I drove all the way out to Flowood to go grocery shopping instead of hanging around here. Let us also know that I was quite nervous as it was the same grocery store from this incident…and there were scattered storms, and I was wearing flip flops – so I was bracing for the inevitable. But, everything was fine…but as I crossed over 55 on Lakeland on the way home I realized, crap…I didn’t go to Hobby Lobby. So, anyways onward to Michaels with the tot in tow. And mind you, she was being an angel. I mean, sweet as pie no meltdowns, etc. This is record-breaking at the grocery store. Well, we get to Michaels and I am looking in the jewelry-making area for the perfect bling and it is cracking me up because the whole time Louisa is saying, “Mommy, do you wike dis one? Oooooooh hows bout dis? Oooooh mys, I lub dis one.” And each question goes up in pitch towards the end, hilarious. Well, of course she had the few ladies also looking at jewelry giggling with her antics. She even got courageous and told one lady that asked what she was looking for “Oooooh, wells, I jes helping my Mommy picks owts some blings for her new tinkini since she got a jiggwy bewwy.” Thanks Lou for the honesty. Of course, that got some giggles and the lady sweetly told Lou, “Well that is very kind of you. I have a tankini too for my jiggly belly and I wonder if mine needs bling too.” To which Louisa answered, “Well of course it does, silly.” So, we were all having a good time on the jewelry aisle at Michaels. Jolly good time. Then Louisa tells me she has to go potty, so I set all things down in a secret place so no one steals my bling and we head on back to the ladies room. The events that follow are hilarious now. Not then, not at all. But now I am laughing hysterically beyond my mortification. And I know that Lou is not the first to have done something similar, and will not be the last…so many of you moms out there might can relate and laugh along with me. But it killed me when it all happened.

So, we get to the ladies room. There are two stalls and thankfully the one that is open is the big one that has plenty of room to move around in with the two of us. Well, as we walked into the restroom I noticed there was a lady in the other stall and let’s just say she had to go potty. We have all been there before, it is never fun in public…but sometimes it just gets you. So, instantaneously my guard is up. I know, know, know that Lou is going to say something but I am trying to come up with ways to distract her. So far, so good. We get into the stall and cover all surfaces with toilet paper and such and then, it begins. “Mommy, it stinks in here. Garoooos. Do you mell dat?” To which I quietly tell Lou to focus on going potty and minding her own business. And she does, and I think, phew…that was okay, we can survive that. And then it happens, gas is passed and wind is broken in the other stall and Louisa about falls into the toilet laughing. “Hahahahaha, Mommy did you hear dat wady toot? Oh my gosh, it was so woud oohhh and it stinks so bads Mommy.” At this time, I am running over to her to pull her back up on the seat and cover her mouth with my hand and then I bend down to whisper in her ear, “Honey, this is not polite. That lady needs her privacy and you need to mind your own business.” To which the response…at a toddlers voice level, “Well Mommy, she might needs her pribacy but she awso needs to say scuuze me. You know dat is rude when you toot and you don say scuuze me.” Okay, I am dying at this point. Dying. Because I know the other lady hears us, and I know she is already embarrassed as it is without my 3 year old telling her her business. My ears are on fire and I can feel my cheeks burning. So, I say, “Lou lets finish up so we can go back and you can help me pick out my bling, okay?” “Well, otays Mommy. But I might need to frow up becaws it mells so stinky in her from dat wady’s toot.” Oh shit. There is no other word for it at this point. I don’t remember much of the rest of getting her off the toilet and out of the bathroom with washed hands. I felt like the walls were closing in on me. I should have just left the store at this point. But, I just figured the worst was over, right? Then I thought, should I go apologize to the lady in the stall? Or should I just leave well enough alone? I mean, what do you do in this situation. I know if it was me in the other stall, I probably would have been laughing too…only because I actively have a 3 year old and I know how it is. But, I don’t know who this lady is or how she would take it, etc. So, I just decide to go on and go back to picking out bling for the jiggly-suit. Then, it happens…hello Murphy and your stupid law, I haven’t missed you. A lady walks onto the same jewelry aisle and is looking at things with her buggy and I don’t pay her any attention just because I am steady hunting the perfect piece of jade stone. Well, Louisa noticed and she didn’t miss a thing. “Nook Mommy, dat is da wady from da bafroom that tooted loud and didn’t say scuuze me and made it mell so bad I almost frew up. I see her shoes, see….wook, its da same wady!” Oh holy junk. Louisa is all out pointing and we are standing feet away from this poor lady that I have ruined her day at Michaels and I am just about throw-up all over myself out of humiliation. In my mind is running the options, do I just leave now, do I make a scene and explain to her this isn’t appropriate or nice or do I apologize to the lady or do I just ignore it all? Then, the unthinkable…the lady looked at me and smiled. And then she started to laugh. And I was almost waiting for her to hit me or my child or something, and then she just smiled again and said to Louisa, “I am so sorry I forgot to say excuse me. That wasn’t very polite of me was it?” And I am cringing and thinking this woman has NO idea what can of worms she is opening asking this little one a question like that and then Louisa surprised the crud out of me and said, “No, it wasn’t powite, but its otay since you said you was sorrys. Sometimes I forget to say scuuze me when I toots and it is still otay, I jes hab to tell Mommy I’s sorry.” And the lady looks at me and must see the absolute terror on my face and tells me not to worry since she has a 16 year old girl at home that was the most out-spoken, precocious little thing when she was little…and she has been in my shoes and she knows how I feel. I wanted to hug her right then and there. Instead, we both just laughed. At first, a nervous laugh…but then it got funny and we laughed-laughed. And then Lou got tickled too and showed us both up with her drama-queen style of doing it up. And we recovered. And no one was hurt. And hopefully no tears were shed. I bought my bling and went to the car with my jolly little fireball skipping to the car while singing, “Come on vaminos, eberybody wets go…”

On the way home, after I was breathing again, I had the talk with Lou about being polite and minding your own business when in a public bathroom. And she continued to answer, “Yes mam” and “I understands” and such and I was getting so proud of her and being a big girl and having a semi grown-up talk with me until I turned me head to look and see her sitting back in her seat staring out the window with one finger up her nose, the other in her ear not paying a BIT of attention to me in the front seat. But yet, she knew when to answer and what I wanted to hear. Wow, this child is going to do a number on me. As I have said before, it is a darn good thing she is cute.


Until next time…

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Bading Soups & Swimmin Poops

Okay, so all the blogs about the sleepless nights recently, kinda have an idea now. Lou’s fragmented sleep is ALWAYS worse when she is sick…and turns out she has had some good old Mycoplasma hanging out with her. I mean, we are a house-full of some sweet, generous hosts. Between Lou and her germs and the dogs and cat and their fleas, I mean…we deserve a good old-fashioned southern hospitality award. Bring it. So, we are now treating Lou with a nice little concoction that brings out the best in most toddlers. Steroids and albuterol…on top of a very, very foul antibiotic. When my child has prednisone on board, it is a ride. Oh a very dramatic one at that…then add to her abnormally hyper-self some albuterol and let’s just say this one gets dangerous. I know you moms out there that have been here know exactly what I mean. When I hear the wheezing, I think to myself…wait, no – that wasn’t wheezing, no prednisone is needed. Whoa. Last night was humorous. She was so wound up she couldn’t sit still. Even more so than usual. And now, she is in her room during her “nap” time singing at the highest decibels I can imagine the theme song to Hannah Montana, that’s my girl. :) "You get da beeeeeeees of bof words, chiwren out with da sto, den you rock out da snow."

Well, so since we have been cooped up and tired and grumpy and grouchy and such, I promised her that if she was feeling better we could put up the swimming pool today and play. We can’t really get out, since it just isn’t good manners to spread the walking pneumonia…but she feels fine and the poor girl needed some exercise. Dr. Smith if you are reading this…trust me, she was good enough to play. And if I end up biting my words at the end of the week, I will totally admit fault. Promise. But, so after a quick run to Target to buy a swimsuit that covers the jiggly that I am so sick and tired of looking at that no matter how many Jillian Michaels I do it just wont leave me (oh, wait…Lou is hosting Mycoplasma, dogs are hosting fleas, and Momma is hosting jiggly…there we go, how sweet am I?). So, instead of letting it get the better of me, I am taking that leap forward and buying a mom bathing suit so that I no longer have to worry about whether or not my once-before 6-pack has turned into a 2-liter and whether or not people are staring at it or being grossed out. So, off to Target. I love that place. Well, luckily I found exactly what I was looking for…but not so lucky am I that my torso is only about 2 inches long. So picture this….my tankini top, the hem falls somewhere along the middle of my quads. What the crap Isaac Mizrahi? I mean, short people wear bathing suits too. Come on. But Mr. Mizrahi, if you read this...I heart you. So, I will be trying my hand at hemming stretchy material…we shall see how well that goes. Word to the wise – steer clear of the sewing room and go ahead and give yourself a protective 100 feet around all sides. I have a feeling the temper may flare.

So, coming home from Target to play in the pool. The pool I bought is one of those that has the inflatable sides, and so I also bought a small hand-pump to go with it. When I showed it to Byron, he said, “Well wont the compressor just work for that?” Oh yeah, duh – of course it will, but I wasn’t thinking and this little hand pump might come in handy so let’s just keep it. Well, I bring it out first because I doubt this pool is going to take too much to fill up. Mistake numero uno. Grande mistake numero uno. Holy moly. I think I can pass on the 30-day shred tonight since I just worked the MESS out of my shoulders, back and arms…and I cannot even tell I put any air in the pool sides. Wow. So, into the garage to lug the humongo and heavy and awkward compressor to the back door. All the while this is going on, mind you that certain toddler that I mentioned that just happens to be hyped up on super meds is saying, repeating, “Mommy, I wanna swim in my pool. Mommy are we gonna swim in my pools? Mommy, are you gonna swim wif me? Mommy, can I have my mermaids in the pool? Mommy are you gonna wear dat new bading soup dress you boughts at Target? Mommy, why isn’t my pool ready yet?” And so on, I think you get the drift. Well, let me just fast forward the clock about an hour and save you all of the four letters, temper tantrums, tears and stomps and kicks and screams that came from this female that cannot figure out how to change the attachments on the air compressor. I have done it before, but this time nothing is working and I am so fed up that I just want to scream. If you look real close at this picture and listen hard, you can probably hear the sailor tongue.

But, even though I haven’t had lunch and Louisa is slowly driving me bananas and I really, really, really need a Diet Coke in a styrofoam cup, I know more than anything I promised her she could play in the pool. So, I go outside with my big-girl panties and I pump the pool with that hand pump. After the first 5 minutes, my body is numb. When I am finished (only pumping the bottom compartment, since the top would just be showing off my muscular skills and I don’t want to make anyone feel bad) I am shaking like I do after a very long, hard run. Holy junk. By this point, I am spent. But, I have Lou dancing all around the deck in her pink tutu bathing suit just about as jolly as good-ole Frosty himself. I mean, she is so stinking excited. But, first things first….gotta lather her up in more SPF since it has already been like 4 hours since I did it this morning. Gotta love those projects that take so much longer than planned!

Next things…fill up the pool. Wait, gross…I forgot to fill it up I have to turn on the spigot. Yikes, this is what I have to walk through to get there. Scary isn’t it? Yes, Axl...welcome to the jungle.

As I walk, I make sure to make as much noise as possible (Louisa is definitely helping me out in the background on this one) and forewarn any creature that is hanging out in this mess that I will cut them if they decide to show themselves. Especially the slithery ones. Then I find a large bunch of this crap.

Ugh. Why, oh why? I think I blogged about my relationship with this in the last post. Get far away from me you fool for we already have one in this house crazy on the steroids, we don’t need to add me to the mix. Capiche?

Oh, and then I see this. I love hydrangeas. So much, and on the same bush blooms a pink one and a purple one…how bout that?

Now, as Louisa has said probably 3,402,284 times in the last 10 minutes “Can I get ins now? Oooohhhhh holy junks Mommy, I am so cited I can stands it” I finally get to tell her yes. And then capture this moment that I just love.

And then this one. Although in this picture she looks as though she is in pain. Maybe it is because the water is only about 50 degrees? But, in all actuality…she is so stinking “cited she can stand it.”

Oh my, and I had to add this one. Poor Ariel and her beautiful red hair that is being used as a Kleenex. Gag-a-roons! PS - next picture down, pay no attention to the heads-down drowing Barbie mermaid in the photo. Tragic.

While I turned my head to go fix us a picnic lunch…my brown boy apparently was “so cited he can stand it” too and had to check out the pool.

And haha…note to self, in bright sunlight – do not set your camera on aperture priority. This will be your end result. Yikes. Makes my eyes hurt!

Okay, I finally have some quiet coming from that firecracker's room. Think I might take advantage to get a list together for our last minute camping trip this weekend. Wahooooo!!! This will be Lou’s first time, unless you count when I was like a week preggo with her. :)

Until the next novel…

Monday, May 24, 2010

Guess I'll Go Eat Worms...

Here it is, 12:30 am and I have tried to lay in bed but have been awakened 3 times already by Lou, so I decided to just get up for a while. I am not really in the mood to sew, nothing, and I mean nothing is on TV, I have already stalked enough people on Facebook to know what everyone did today, so I guess I will sit down to blog.

Today I worked in the yard with Byron. This is something that we used to always do together at our house in Georgia. I mean, we were fierce in the yard. Sherri and Debbie, if you are reading...did you know it was like a competition to see who had the most yard trash on the street by Mondays? :) We always had some big project going on like building a picket fence from scratch or pulling up all the English ivy that covered our front yard all the while finding way to many snakes for this girl to handle. We even made this little back patio area after we got home from our honeymoon. No worries, Murphy and his Law has always been there right along side of us…even so in one project Byron was working on the roof of our guest house when out of NO WHERE the sky turned black, the winds picked up to like 125 miles per hour (not really, but I figured the drama was needed to get the point across) and while I was out weeding the front flower bed I heard him hollering for me to help. So I did…little did I know that in 5 minutes we would both be up on the roof (me in my gym shorts and flip flops) laying our weight on a large tarp over an un-shingled roof while a storm blew over and we were hailed upon, big-fat-rain dropped upon and escaped lightning strikes only by the luck of our britches. It was awful. We laugh about it now, sure…but that moment was awful. I honestly think it was tornado weather, but thankfully the twisters were not out that day. Phew. Could you imagine? Then, there was one time that we were working on the back patio (mind you RIGHT after we got home from honeymoon) and my sweet NEW husband used my work gloves to mess with some poison ivy. I had NEVER had a problem with the stuff before. Well, introduce Amy to a poison ivy allergy. Lovely. I got it bad. I mean, bad bad. I ended up getting on steroids…which for those fortunate enough NOT to know me on steroids…this little girl on roids is NO BUENO. I am quite the mad hatter. My poor, sweet, brand-new husband probably wanted to trade his new wife in for another…that is until the steroids wore off and I slowly got back to my only slightly crazed self. Phew. Close one. But, point being (as I tend to get off subject too easily) I just don’t work in the yard with him here anymore. I don’t know why. Maybe because the backyard here just overwhelms the patoobies out of me. I just don’t know where to start ever. Ever. I mean, we are getting there, and have a humongo work in the yard weekend planned for Memorial Day weekend, so I am trying to find my big-girl panties to put on for that weekend, oh wait…that reminds me, I have been meaning to do my laundry for a week now. Hmmm, wonder if the noise will wake anyone else up?

But, in preparation for about 2 football fields worth of pea-gravel that is probably going to be delivered and dumped in our driveway towards the end of the week, we had to get working. Down in the dirt and all dirty and sweaty. It was fun though, and at the end of the job for today I took a 2 hour nap (I NEVER take naps, ever…but this was fun and needed as the sleeping lately has been non-existent. Obviously, I am up at 1 am blogging) and then we grilled hot dogs while Louisa played in the sprinkler. I love days like this. I am sure my sewing room missed me, but I told it not to worry…it will get plenty of me this coming week.

So, most of my readers care about one thing. The toddler that usually graces the pages of this blog with her silly smiles and crazy ways. Well, she was there today. Full-force.

And thankfully, we have a backyard FULL of earthworms (not for long if I continue to decapitate with my shovel on accident...in fact, while it kept happening I was singing this to the Outkast tune "I'm sorry Mr. Worm, I cut off your heead" Yep, I just said that) that keep her occupied.

Then she decided to run all around the backyard and just smile. This was seen by a resting Mommy on the hammock and it brought me such joy that I cannot even explain. Made me forget I was sleepy as crap. Remember that blog on Friday? Yep. And, I had my trusty Sambo stuffed down into my sports-bra so that I could Pandora while I worked (no pockets on the gym shorts) and at this moment of pure bliss while watching said tot run around in circles I was listening to the sweet, sweet voice of Ingrid Michaelson. It was like a scene from a movie. Except I was sweaty and stinky, and my dog had just pooed right beside the hammock so that was stinky, and we were all sweaty and Lou finally stopped running around and came to me and started whining. Okay, so there was that lovely moment in which your toddler melts you and you are beyond words and then reality comes back and bites you in the booty. Quickly. But then, she actually asked me to take pictures of her. She NEVER does this. And you all see first-hand the number of pics I take of her. Well, this time she was willing. And of course you know I jumped.

Who cares that she started to eat dirt…what is that saying again, God made dirt and dirt don’t hurt?? I am sure there are some nutrients in there that simply cannot be found in chicken nuggets, French fries or PB & J’s.

Fast-forward to later when the sprinkler came out. I couldn’t get close enough without fear of the unpredictable flower sprinkler shooting water all over my camera to get a close up, but this next one says it all.

Then how about this one, she will KILL me one day for the double chins. But it captured the moment of her pure happiness in running around in the water. I remember that feeling as a child. Who wouldn’t want to go back there? I guess I could try. We have a very tall privacy fence on all sides. Who would ever know? Maybe the fat raccoons that live in the trees? Nah, they are my buds, they wouldn't tell or judge.

Okay, so as I am wrapping this up, it just now dawned on me that I sat down to blog about the new master bathroom. Wow, talk about getting off the subject. I don’t even think I hinted at it at all. Goodness. Oh well, that will be another blog another day. I am slowly starting to get tired again, and am keeping the fingers crossed I can get at least an hour straight of uninterrupted sleep. But, the way things are sounding back there in that sweet baby pink room, I doubt it. Bless her. And her sweet little dirt covered lips as she leaned in for a "supa smoochie."

Until next time…

Friday, May 21, 2010

The Little Things in Life

So, ever had one of those days that you just want to stomp and scream and cuss and pull your hair out? Well, today started off as one, and I am making it stop as I have quit trying to do anything that resembles productivity. I just need to shut down for a few and take a breather and gain some perspective.

First of all, my child is 3. You may not understand unless you have a 3 year old drama queen at your house…then you totally get it. She is putting me through the ringer. It really doesn’t help that she hasn’t slept worth a crap the last 2 weeks. I will refrain from going into her sleep habits/disorder because I know most of you already know all about it. If you are new here, yay…welcome, you can catch a refresher course here. If I had a full night’s sleep on board, I might be a little better with handling the issues of a 3 year old. But I don’t. And, in her defense…I have a feeling (or at least I really, really want to believe) that most of her erratic behavior is because she is tired too. I just don’t have the patience right now because I am exhausted and it just is beating us both down. I really don’t want to complain about it any longer though because as I have said a bazillion times before, Dr. Smith always reminds me to be careful what I wish for, and it is so true. It is days like this that I am always struck straight in the face by a nice whooping dose of perspective. And I am very thankful for it. Always. I think perspective is just about fabulous. I cannot tell you how many parents out there probably wished that their only worry was whether or not their 3 year old would sleep through the night. And with that said, I just feel awful for even being annoyed by it. You know? I have a friend that I haven’t seen since middle school (but we caught up on Facebook) that this time last year was about to learn that her 5 month old needed a heart transplant. I mean, wow. This girl amazes me to this day in how well she handles so much that is thrown her way. And I hope she doesn’t mind me mentioning her, but sometimes I think of her when I want to have a pity party. I remind myself that this girl that shares my name is one of the strongest, bravest mothers I know…and I haven’t laid eyes on her in years. Weird, isn’t it? And you know what…you don’t hear her complain, at least I don’t. So, let me shut my trap on that note.

So, to avoid going with the flow of my rancid day, I decided to refocus my negative attitude on things that I love and that make me smile. So, I went outside for some dirt therapy. Funny how sometimes getting your hands dirty can bring you back to earth. Literally. So I planted some flowers in my pots on the porch that had over-due pansies still habitating in them. Immediately I felt better. So, I came back inside…put Miss Thing down for a nap and shut off all of my sewing machines, irons and light to my sewing room. Just cannot do that right now. Instead, I started emptying all the pics off of my camera onto the computer and uploading to Facebook and such so I can stay “plugged” in. Well, in doing so, my mood was improved again. I found pictures of the things that just make me smile and forget that I could honestly fall right asleep if I just blinked for one second too long. Without sounding all cheesy and gooby and mushy and all that hoop-la, I gained my perspective. For it is in the little things...the frog in the garden,


my cat taking a nap,


my brown dog being curious about all the flea medicines,


my child picking a wedgie and being caught on camera,


my husband watching the Masters in the garage so he can escape in a beach chair with his feet propped on my treadmill,


friendships,


ice-cold strawberry Abitas,


that your good old-fashioned perspective is found. Well, at least for me. It is the small things in this life that make you happy and that matter most. Not the whole scheme of things. In 30 years will I look back and think about my bad mood and tiredness or will I remember laughing with my child having a tea party when she serves me toilet water? Well, I guess I could remember whichever I wanted to. But I think I know what I will choose. And on that note, pinkies up my dearest Lula Kate.


Until next time…

Friday, May 14, 2010

Methods to My Madness

So, warning…rando post. But my mind is racing a bazillion miles an hour and I just need to get it all out somewhere.

Do you ever have those moments in which you just have to do something right then and there? It is like something comes and bites me in the booty and I need to drop everything I am doing and go pursue this booty-biting thing. I am not talking about bugs or fleas or anything…it is that creative bug that comes out of nowhere. He is rough. Well, here I was taking a coffee break from brownie-goose and ordering prints from the photos that my amazing friend took of Lou a few months ago…I am really on the ball here. Anyways, I decided that I needed to stop right then and there and leave to go to an unspecified place (a girl has to have her secrets) to go get some stuff to do some fun creativeness for these pictures that probably wont come in the mail for another few weeks. I know this is sketchy, but I simply cannot reveal my ideas in case I don’t follow through with them and yall will have me feeling all bad because I told you about them and then went off on another tangent. Is this even healthy? Or is it some characteristic of a mental disorder? That is a rhetorical question, by the way.

So, here I am taking a coffee break and this is where my mind goes. Now, I can kind of see where Lou gets it from sometimes. Ordering pictures, ooohhhhh feel the need to go to unspecified store to get fun things. Must do NOW, but Lou is asleep. Crap. Call up place only to find they close in 30 minutes and that just wouldn’t be enough time for me to go in and figure out what I “need.” (This leads me to confess that I have a slightly deranged perceptive of need vs. want, so….I have come to terms with it and am just fine with it all, I believe if you admit to some madness sometimes, it is okay) Heavy sigh, maybe I can go tomorrow, but I won’t “need” to as bad then. So, I go off on another tangent. Mind you, I still have about 60 orders that need to be sewn in my sewing room, but I decide instead I am going to do the infamous walk around my house to see what needs to be redecorated or repainted. Oh my gosh, why am I so nutty? Please tell me I am not the only one that does this. So, I get all creative and then decide that I need to redo the curtains in the living room and then re-upholster the sofa. Come on now, Amy….are you even serious? I mean, I still have to make the shower curtain and window curtain for the newly finished master bath. So, off of that tangent…then onto another. But back to the pictures and framing and such. I decide where I need to move some pictures from where to where and where I need to hang the new ones that I just ordered. Then I get all excited again about going to said store to find some said things to take on a whole other project that I am not quite sure I have the skills or tools for. Which brings me to another thing. I have this awful habit of seeing something I like and saying, “Oh, I can do that.” And then my uber-determined self cannot be okay until I carry through with it, come hell or high water. Think that is Mrs. Type A coming through and showing her bossy self? Well, then I remember Lou is napping and I cannot do any of that fun stuff right now since I need to attend to my sewing and then my projects for the bathroom first. So, what do I do? Well, I sit down in front of the computer and decide I want to play around more with my new website that I am trying to create for brownie-goose. Are you following me here? Then, I get frustrated because I don’t know what certain words/html codes mean, so I Google them and then get fed up and my mind starts to wander to my Fall line for BG. I start thinking of my new fabrics and patterns and website that needs to be done, etc. And so…I begin to get overwhelmed because I then remember that I still have Spring/Summer to finish. Ughh. So, I sit down to blog because my mind is taking over at this point and I just picture it sprouting legs and running off with my body trying to keep up with it.

Does it sound to you like I am crazy? Once again, rhetorical. But this must happen to other people, right? And funny as it is….I don’t really think of myself as the creative type. I love to create though, I like to make things, I like to design things, I want to learn to paint, I want to learn more about woodworking, I love to sew, I really want to learn more about graphic design, and most of all – I LOVE to do it all myself. I love to say, “yes I did that” or “I made it” etc, all the while feeling super embarrassed by it all. The attention I mean. Goodness. Looney bin…

One of the girls whose blog I stalk (click here, she is great - and you should stalk her too) wrote a post before about how crafty people sometimes just have their hands in too many things. Maybe that is my illness. I just want to do it all. And then I think my mind is in over-drive since I went to Canton Flea Market yesterday and saw booth after booth of creativeness and then had a photography course last night which made me want to stay up all night and play with my camera. Sometimes I laugh at myself when I say, “Oh I can do that” but then again…deep down I know that I need (remember my definitions of need) to figure out how.

Well, in the mean-time of this rant and rave…Louisa woke up from her “booty seep.” And, I have sort-of calmed myself down off my creative pyschoness. It is funny, because if you ask my husband…I am the complete opposite of ADD. I get so into things and so determined to finish once I start something that the world could crash down around me and I would never know. But, it is on these crazy creative streaks that I question this lack of ADD. Make sense?

Just to entertain, I will include some pictures from my class last night. It was taught by Jeanelle Caraway (J. Caraway Photography) and Katie Stafford (of Mary Moment Photography). These girls can tear it up behind the lens. I can tear some things up, I am sure…but not in the same fashion. Anyways, this was me playing with my camera at the table. I put it on manual…and you know what, to my amazement – it didn’t blow up when I took pictures and I didn’t fall out. It took pictures. And even better…who knew the meter on there would help me out with my exposure. I was amazed at how smart my camera really was. I mean, rock on water bottle and mustard bottle! So, here we go playing around with ISO, aperture and shutter speed. Say what?? I know, maybe I know JUST enough to be dangerous, which is pretty much the case in all my creative hobbies. :)










Until next time (when I will try to promise to be more sane, *try* being key word)…

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

The World According To Lou...


Just wanted to fill you in on the last 30 minutes in our house. Warning, I cannot spell check or edit since Microsoft Word doesn’t speak “Louisa” so the entire document is either underlined in red or green. Sorry.

This all taking place in my sewing room while I have my back to her while I am sewing away. She is on bean bag talking to her self, toys, walls, me, anyone that will listen.

“Ones upon a times, dere was a bootiful pwincess named Ta-Leesa (this is what she calls herself now…we have gone from Neisha, to Weesa to Ta-Leesa). She was da mos bootiful girl dere eber was. (Humble, isn’t she?) Her fabrite fings were pink and purple and she had a prince dat wood let her lib happily eber affer.”

Insert 3 year old attention span….

“Mommy, do you finks dat I am the mos bootiful?” Me responding while I continue to sew a seam, “Of course sweetie.” “Well, you needs to turn arounds an look at mes when you talk to me, otay?” Goodness, I did say you were the most beautiful, let me add most sassy while I am at it.

Carry on then…

“Da pwincess wanted to take her carriage to Target to pick up some new oderant (deodorant) for da ball.” My ears perk up at this point because I am wondering where she is going with this… “When she gets dere she gets a pink Icee and den she goes to wook at da shoes.”

Insert that attention span again…

“Mommy, did you forget dat we needs to look for new shoes when we goes to Target? I fought I was post to get some new running shoes like Ewwa’s. Did you remembers dat?” I nod and say “Mmmhmmmm” only because I have about 8 pins in my mouth as I am trying to pin something together. “MOMMY, talk wif your teef, not like dat. Gosh.” So, I remove the pins from my mouth, remind Miss Sassipants that I am the Mom and she doesn’t talk to me that way and tell her that yes I do remember we are supposed to get her running shoes like Ella’s. “Oh, otay, I wike to get new shoes. Do you wants to go today? I get so cited abouwts shoes. Can I go get dressed? (Yes, we are still in our j’s but it is a sew-a-thon and I don’t have time for things like shower and clothes today) Oh waits…I needs to go potty.”

To the bathroom we go…

“Mommy, I needs my pribacy pwease. I habs to go poopoo.” So, I step out knowing that I cannot go far or get back to sewing since as soon as I sit down to something I will hear the infamous, “Mommy, I’m froos. Come an gets some towwet papers.” Well, I hear it and I go help (since we haven’t yet conquered wiping of the #2 all-by-selfs yet) and I get in there and she has the most distraught look on her face and she says all pitiful-like, “Oh noes, Mommy…I hab da siarreas.” And I tell her it is okay, that it is probably from the white medicine she is on. “Oh well, I don’t likes that white messin, lets just not take it anymores, otay?” And I say “Well, Lou you have to take that since it is an antibiotic and it is going to make you feel better.” Her reply, “Well, whas it called?” I tell her Augmentin and then I see the wheels turning, but she says nothing so we go on about our business.

Back in the sewing room, me at the machines, her in the bean bag with my Blackberry (locked of course) in her hand. I wish I had a picture because I don’t think I can describe it as well, but she is sitting there with her leg crossed over the other, phone up to her ear and play lipstick (nipstick) in the other hand. This is what I hear, pretend talk of course. “Hey Beebee (Phoebe). Watcha doing? Me, oh nuffin…I just sit here and hewps my Mama sews some stuff. Beebee, I gots da siarreahs from my hogmentens. Yeah, it is becaws I hab a bad coughs.”

Attention span again…

“Mommy, can I pwease go and puts on my new pwincess Tinkerbell dress so dat I can pway pwincess and be soo bootiful and den sing songs?” To which I say, “Not right now Lou, how about we go take a break and eat some lunch, and then you can be Tinkerbell after your nap?”

“Oh Mommy, dat is da best ideas eber. Dat wood be a greats idea. You so sweet Mommy, I lubs you.”

And this is why I have a hard time staying upset with her. She just melts me.

Until next time…

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Bring It On Summertime...


I know I blogged last summer about how much I loved summer. I think I will do it again, even though it isn't really summer, somehow the 90 degree weather fools me. But you know, my fave season...I will take it all. I loves it, as Lou would say.

To me, the signs of different seasons are great. Except winter, I am not much a fan of winter...but the signs of spring and summer are my absolute faves. I love when things begin to bloom. I love when the weather is so great all you want to do is open the doors and windows (unless you live in my house and all the windows are painted shut and then protected with inch thick storm windows, gripe). I love going to a nursery or farmer's market to buy new ferns for the urns (haha...ferns for my urns) on my front stoop (it simply cannot be confused with a porch). Setting the grill on fire. Wait, what? Apparently this is a new sign for me...but the second year in tradition. So, the setting of the grill on fire. Nothing like some char-grilled chicken. :)

You know who else likes it all? My kiddos. Not just Louisa but the doggies as well. Because this is the time I love to go outside. Aside from the mosquitoes the size of Murray, it is just some serious therapy. So, we all get to play outside. Tonight when we played outside, I, of course took my camera (be forewarned...I am taking a photog course next week...so I might be about to get REALLY annoying with the pictures) to capture some of these signs.

Grass. Look at how green and fluffy this looks. I love it. I love it even more knowing that I PUT IN ON THE GROUND. Yep, this pic is from the third pallet that we layed last summer. I laid that 3rd one "all by self" to surprise Byron. He was surprised, so were my muscles. But, no pain...no gain.


And this grass is just ASKING to be twirled in by the cutest little tow-headed-firecracker I know.


And sweet Lucy, in her favorite spot in the backyard. The stick pile. Chasing the raccoons that weigh more than Lou that all hide in there. They are very large. But, I love them. And I am secretly hoping they will have babies and let me have one. I need one.


Mallard loves nothing more than for someone to throw something for him to fetch all.the.time. Bless him though, he has arthritis in his back hips, so we can't play too much...but he just doesn't understand. Sometimes when playing too much, he will still play fetch DRAGGING his back legs. It breaks my heart in two. He is my baby. A bit obsessive, but the apple never falls far.


I mean, just look how he is smiling! He loves it.

And oh my gosh. This guy is calling my name with some serious loudness. There isn't much better in this world than a Pawley's Island hammock. Tried and true. Funny story on this one. This is our second. The first one was a gift to Byron from an ex-girlfriend. It never bothered me, I sat and swung in it just the same. For the last 7 years. I loved it, and it loved me. I spent many of afternoons in it reading books. Wow, I love a hammock. But, just recently it did me wrong. I went to said hammock with a good book, my Blackberry and some Diet Coke and was SO stinking excited about sitting in the backyard in quiet and reading a book. Well, the dry-rot finally set it all over. Recently, the ropes started to pop one-by-one. Not this day, all the ropes went ka-plooey all at once and down to the ground I went with a thud. Not cool my friend. But then I thought, you know...that is probably sweet, sweet karma finally coming around and biting me in the booty for swinging so long in a hammock from an ex-girlfriend. Funny, huh?

Summertime usually brings a little silliness too. Wait, who am I kidding? This child is always silly. No matter the season.

Oh, and I simply CANNOT forget one of my summertime favorites. Beer in the backyard. I can just hear Buzz Ravenel from Shag asking me, "Bevo?" Yes please.

On a side note. Just a story I thought I'd share since if there was anyone in the woods along 25 today...I am sure I am videotaped and might already be on YouTube getting many laughs. I was driving back from Philadelphia from visiting Phoebe, and had just gotten on Lakeland/25 whatever that road is called. Mind you, I brake for animals. All of them, except snakes and alligators. In fact, I totaled my first car when I swerved to miss hitting a black lab. I know, it isn't safe...but it is just a reflex that I cannot control. Anyways, I hit a buzzard. The thing came out of NO where. Seriously, no where. It made such a thud that I was convinced my entire front bumper was gone. Well, I pulled over because I felt awful. I know it was just a buzzard, but I was still shaken up and felt like I would hurl. Plus, I needed to make sure my front end was still in one piece...miraculously it was, gotta LOVE a Honda. Anyways, I looked back and there was that poor buzzard just lying in the tire tracks. I felt terrible. I decided I needed to move it so that other cars wouldn't hit it. I'm still sane, just follow me through. I always keep plastic grocery bags in the car because when you travel with a toddler, you never know what you are in for. So, I grabbed the bags and was walking towards it (this part of 25 is deserted) and was thinking of how I would wrap the bags around it and pull it off to the side. About the time I got close enough to realize the joker was as big as I was, he jumped up fast as can be started hopping and then trying to fly....RIGHT AT ME. I do not know how I didn't wet my pants for real because it scared me so bad. He was just off-balance I guess, and he continued to hop off and seemed to be fine, but I think he had it out for me. I know for sure I screamed, because Lou asked me why I was "howwerin" when I got in the car. I know I jumped a few thousand feet and then ran, fast.as.I.could back to Remy. And as I said...if anyone was hanging out in the woods they got a nice little laugh. I know I would have. Crazy. Looney. Oh my gosh. Hope you enjoyed that. So, as a lesson...if you hit a buzzard, let it go. I know you are all saying in your head, "well...duh Amy." Whatev, you have to learn right? :)

Until next time...