Showing posts from September, 2014

Awkward selfie of the week.

When you strike gold, you keep digging, right? Well, piggybacking on my RAGING success from the other week, I'm here to post my...

AWKWARD SELFIE OF THE WEEK Or my awkward selfie of the month. Or year. Or I may never do this again. Whatevs. Elements of the selfie that I nailed: downward angle for most flattering (ha) results duck face/silly face (with an element of "Say WHAAAAT?" thrown in) excellently clever hashtags It also highlights my highlights. More accurately, it highlights how long it's been since I've had my highlights done. (Over four months.) Howdy-doo, roots? I did not get a truly awkward location but I did do it at work which is probably a no-no. That was 10 seconds spent not doing something I should have. But, hey, I'd been at work for, like 30 minutes. I needed a break. Now, on to the show:
Take note of the immense clutter on the window sill behind me. Also note that my eyes appear to be ever so slightly crossed and I look a little crazed. That wasn'…

Dream a little dream of sweaters and slacks.

What with getting a house, focusing more on my diet and getting some exercise, and wiping the cutest butt I've ever seen, I've not really focused on my wardrobe here lately.

However, after rushing out the door in a pair of pants that, I discovered too late, had a stain on them (and unlike my spit up jeans, these had just been washed), I thought perhaps I should start replacing some of these things.

Which made me remember that I was going to go all Fabulous Capsule Wardrobe on my closet. (That's the sartorial equivalent of going all crazy on your--ahem--butt.)

I decided to sit down with a pencil and paper and play a game. If I had to start completely over from scratch, what core items of clothing would I want?

I didn't say you'd think it was a Fun game. Bear with me.

1.) Pick your color.
It's still pretty much a sauna outside here in North Florida, but we are approaching fall and winter. I don't think I look spectacular in black, and I get awfully tired of shades …

Costume ideas.

I have two really excellent Halloween costume ideas that I may or may not ever use.

#1: Dress my child up like a squash with buckles all over her. Instead of a swashbuckler, she'll be a squashbuckler.

#2: Put on bird costume. Top with party hat, maybe a t-shirt that says "Ready to party!" Accessorize with streamers, maybe a kazoo. I'll be a Party Fowl.

Another one I've heard of and will probably use one day is to glue some miniature cereal boxes and plastic knives to a t-shirt. Be a Cereal Killer.

My best (in my opinion), laziest costume ever was when I was slightly too old to be trick-or-treating, but went with a group anyway. I didn't feel like coming up with something clever, so I just threw on a ton of things that didn't go together, including a Gator hat and some Seminole shorts. I told people I was Confused.

If you use any of these ideas, and we show up to the same place doing exactly the same thing, you heretofore and hereby waive any and all claims to …

Morning prayer.

Every morning on the way to school and work, Sutton and I say a morning prayer. I usually get it started since, you know, I use words.

We say thank you for a great night of sleep and another day.

We say thank you for the food in our bellies and the roof over our head.

We ask blessings for those who are hungry, hurting, or homeless.

We ask the Lord to forgive our sins and to help us be forgiving of others.

We ask the Lord to help us, in our own little way, be His light in the world.

We ask that Sutton has a great day at school with her teachers and friends, and that Patrick and I have good days at work.

We say thank you for anything in particular that we are grateful for, or pray for anyone who lands on our hearts and minds, or ask forgiveness for anything in particular we know we've done (or not done).

We say that we pray this in the name of Jesus, our only Savior.

We say, Aaaaaamen!

I suppose I should clarify that I say all these things. Sutton says "AH! AH! Uhhh-ya! Ttthhhh. Ttthhhh…

Selfies are, like, hard.

Following an most excellently hot and sweaty walk Saturday morning, I decided that I really needed to take a post-workout selfie. Because if you don't, did it even happen?

No, it did not.

Based on all the selfies I've seen, and I've seen far too many, I've learned that all the best selfies contain a few crucial elements:
hand on the hipduck face OR "I'm so ridiculously happy" smile OR sassy facedownward angle, to aid in looking slimmer and/or showing some cleavage There are also some fantastic optional elements that seem to bring some further life and interest to the picture: bathroom localepost-workout flushed cheeksfaux-self-deprecating caption OR blatantly bragging about yourself caption
I've also noticed that the most enjoyable selfies contain awkward items in the background, and those are often found in bathroom selfies. Putting all of those things together, my goal was simple. Extend arm upward, place hand on hip, find appropriately attractive angle,…

A pox on my house.

Did someone wish a pox upon my house? Because it worked.

Tuesday afternoon, just as I was beginning to eat lunch, Sutton's day care called to let me know she had a fever and was acting puny.

Cue mom reaction: My baby? Nooooo!

Quicker than the bat of an eyelid (not really, but close), I was leaving work and hurrying to get my girl. She felt hot, and looked miserable. A small rash--just a few pink spots--had appeared around her mouth and on her arms. A few spots on her legs, too.

She has good timing at least, since that afternoon she was already scheduled to see the doctor for a 6 month exam. They weighed her (15 lbs 9 oz) and took her temperature (102.1). The doctor guessed she had something viral, probably Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease (not to be confused with Hoof and Mouth--she's not bovine), possibly some kind of chicken pox. Either way, it was something that simply needed to run its course.

He advised keeping her comfortable with Tylenol, lukewarm baths, and lots of loving…

You know?

You know those mornings where you dump boiling water on your fingers?

And let hot grease pop you?

And don't have time to put on all your makeup or do anything more with your hair than scrape it into a (not great-looking) bun?

And you don't like your outfit?

And you're late for work?

No? Oh. Neither do I.

Not burnt hands and green lights all the way to you and yours,

New blog. Same old Boring.

No one has asked about it. So, naturally, I assume you're all secretly DYING TO KNOW about the new tab at the top of the page, I Challenge Me to a Duel, and you're just too darn shy to ask me about it.

Silly Goose! You can ask me anything!

Or, you didn't even notice/care.

Either way, I'm here to let you know that I'm keeping a separate blog over there about my diet and exercise. My child is nearly 6 months old now and the old muffin top doughnut top is threatening to become a permanent fixture.

It's all, "Hey, I'm here to stay!"

And I'm all, "No! Go away!"

And it's all, "But you aren't making me go away. Nyah, nyah!"

And I'm all, "Oh yeah? Well watch this!"

It took me roughly 3.7 seconds to come up with the name I Challenge Me to a Duel because I'm my own worst enemy (aren't we all) and so I'm having to fight my own lazy nature in order to kick things into gear and get myself a little bit healthier…

Well, that was a nice 20 minute interlude.

That's what I said as we laid back down to go to sleep at 1:20 in the morning.

Sounds super sexy, right?

Wrong.Lemme tell ya a story.
Tuesday evening I was super tired. I hadn't slept well the previous few nights and, since dinner was done and Patrick said he'd handle the clean up, I went to bed at 8:30. It was glorious. I don't remember Patrick coming to bed. I don't remember anything until suddenly at 1 a.m. a loud banging, scratching noise woke me. Patrick woke up only moments after me.

"What is that?!"

"I have no idea."

We both quickly jumped up and made our way down the hall. Perhaps it was a branch swinging into a window, we both thought. (I guess we had some idea, then.) Approaching the entrance to our daughter's room, the noise got louder. We stopped outside of the hall bathroom next to her room, listening intently.

"It's coming from the vents. It's under the house!"

The air vents in our new place are in the floor, which …

De Quervain's tenosynovitis.

Yeah, you heard me.

The Mayo Clinic's website spells it out nicely for us:

De Quervain's tenosynovitis (dih-kwer-VAINS ten-oh-sine-oh-VIE-tis) is a painful condition affecting the tendons on the thumb side of your wrist. If you have de Quervain's tenosynovitis, it will probably hurt every time you turn your wrist, grasp anything or make a fist. Although the exact cause of de Quervain's tenosynovitis isn't known, any activity that relies on repetitive hand or wrist movement — such as working in the garden, playing golf or racket sports or lifting your baby — can make it worse.
Well call this another Mommy Test Fail... what are we on, #6? I have suffered a physical injury as a direct result of being a baby-cuddler.

I woke up one morning sometime in July with my left wrist, at the base of my thumb, hurting as if it had been badly bruised, but with no visible swelling or anything to indicate that Patrick secretly hit me with tiny hammers in my sleep.

After about a month or…