One of my favorite shows is "King of the Hill," and this weekend I went on a mini-marathon of King of the Hill episodes. Inspired by one of my favorite characters, Peggy Hill, I decided yesterday that we needed to make SpaPeggy and Meatballs for dinner. If you aren't familiar with "King of the Hill," well, shame on you. Still, I will acquiesce to your burning curiosity to know what the frank "SpaPeggy and Meatballs" just might be. The different between Peggy's SpaPeggy and regular spaghetti is simply that she adds "regiano cheese and just the right amount of sugar." (She is her own number 1 fan and cheerleader, so obviously that minor personalization, if you can call it that, warrants renaming the meal after herself.) Once I'd decided to make SpaPeggy and Meatballs for dinner, I realized the ground meat was in the freezer and I didn't feel like defrosting it. I quickly edited the meal down to just SpaPeggy, sans meatballs. I
Once upon a time, about 4 or so years ago, my 4-year old niece was helping me browse in Marshall's. She pointed to a shirt, told me it was cute, and I asked if she thought her mom, my sister, would like it. "Umm, it's cute, but it's not my mama's style." Ever since then, anything that I don't quite like "is not my mama's style." I tell you that to tell you this. For a while I have been ready to get rid of our living room furniture. I'm incredibly grateful to have it, as it was given to us in good condition for the low, low cost of FREE. Me likey the free stuff. However, "it's not my mama's style" and Patrick and I agreed we'd like to eventually have furniture because we like it and not just because it was $0.00. Well, big news on that front. Hold the phone, hit pause on your walkman (oh, you have a discman? Pardon me!), and listen to this: We bought a couch! Oh, silly you. You thought I was going to s
After my VIRAL* post about wanting to stop being late all. the. durn. time, I thought it would only be right to report how my first week went. A few notes. 1) It's not my fault that my first week was a 4 day work week. And I'm not sad about it, either. 2) Possible exaggerations follow. Monday, January 2. Night Zero. Lunch made, with one minor Greek yogurt flying across the floor mishap. My work bag packed. Girls' bags packed. Outfit picked out. Alarm set for 5:45a and into bed just after 10p. So excited about how I'm going to get up and moving and actually be on time that I cannot fall asleep for nearly an hour. Excellent start. Tuesday, January 3. Day 1. The day starts a tad earlier than I would have liked. 3a Toddler lets herself out of her room and tries to crawl in our bed. Take her back to bed. 4a Toddler has bad dream. Cries and wakes us up, then settles herself back down. 5a Toddler has another bad dream. Cries lots. I get up
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