Stuck Between Maternity and New York City

It has become apparent that I am out of touch with today's fashion.

I was out shopping today, looking for some clothes for church. Something. Anything modest and decent and fashionable and cheap.

At this point, I'll go for two out of three.

Seriously, if it were not for Big Mama's Fashion Fridays and my sweet friend Christy (who has a local ladies' boutique) I would have no clue what was in style these days. Let me take a moment to thank these dear ladies for their charitable offerings to my wardrobe poverty. You are too kind.

I've never been one to follow the trends. I usually know what is in style, but I tend to go conservative and classic over super trendy. But today I realized that I have forgotten what defines classic.

Unless a v-neck top and capri pants are considered classic. If that is the case, well, somebody call Vogue, I am a fashionista.

I have nearly every color of plain t-shirt, long sleeve and short sleeve, in my dresser drawers. Some of them are my "good" ones, which means they do not have bleach stains on them. These are reserved for going somewhere. The stained or otherwise "not good" ones are reserved for yard work, painting projects, and cleaning the kitchen sink.

Can you stand the excitement?

I do have a few new items (thanks to Christy) but I need a few more. I have lost a few pounds and now I must buy new clothes out of necessity. (Yeah. That's the reason.)

What I realized today is that I must have been on a deserted island for the past eight years or so, because from the time I was pregnant to now, all of the cute, easy stuff is just gone. I realized today that if Forrest Gump had been with me he would have said, "Fashion is tough."

And then he probably would have just run, run away because that is what Jenny told him to do and if you had seen me in some of those flouncy wrap dresses today, you would've have run, too.


So, here is the deal. I need your help, Internets. If you are in your thirties, what on Earth do you wear? Where do you find clothes that fit?

Are any of you stuck in postpartum fashion failure or are you one of the lucky ones whose fashion sense snapped right back, along with your figure?

And if you are one of the lucky ones, please know that I don't hate you. Really.

(Grrrr....)

Works For Me Wednesday: Local Sales

While reading a magazine today, I happened upon this site.

Here is how it works-

Register your zip code to find out the sales at local stores.

You can even check out deals on groceries!

View weekly ads and flyers.

(Sounds like a great tool for those after Thanksgiving sales.)

I hope to use the site to find the best deals on Christmas gifts. Check it out!

See Shannon for more great tips this Wednesday.

Thank you, Peter Pan

Thanksgiving is just around the corner. In addition to the menu planning and the turkey purchasing, I decided to start my list of Thankfuls.

wink wink

If you are new here, please don't think me disrespectful. Sarcastic and nuts, yes. Disrespectful and ungrateful, no.

wink wink again

I am thankful for the following, in no particular order:

1. Indoor plumbing

2. Make-up. (Such big miracles in such tiny packaging)

3. Diet Coke

4. Dyson (moment of silence in respect for Mr. Dyson himself)

5. Saltine crackers (They do wonders for nausea and soup, but not necessarily at the same time. Unless the soup made you sick.)

6. Peanut Butter

7. Lycra

8. The big toe. Without it, we would all be off balance. Yeah, you would.

9. Aretha Franklin. Her music makes me smile no matter what. It also makes me want to dance, which is why I am even more thankful for #8.

And the list goes on...

Blog Comments??

Several of you have said you are having trouble leaving comments on my blog. If you are having trouble, would you please email me at the email address in my profile? I think it has something to do with Google.

I don't allow anonymous comments. Having registered commenters helps with the SPAM content and keeps the language appropriate.

Feel free to email me. I may not answer immediately, but I do always read them and answer eventually.

Thanks for your patience!

:>)

When giggles turn to dreams

They are sitting in the floor right now, eating popcorn and watching Air Buddies. My two girls.

One of them I actually gave birth to and the other, well, I would have given birth to her too, if her Mama hadn't done it already. I have several other "children" like her. Children of close friends, best friends. Sweet children that I would have picked for my own, given the chance.

This other girl of mine has brown hair with curls and waves that fall gracefully on her shoulders. Her curls turn to tendrils when she has played and giggled past her bedtime, or when she has gotten too hot in the sun. Her eyes are brown and large, puppy dog eyes, which fit her; she adores all things canine.

Including the great wolf.

Ever since I can remember, she has loved the wild, yet gentle nature of the wolf. An unlikely devotion for a child.

And I remember so much.

I remember her playing with my little girl in our backyard, helping her blow out the candles at many birthday parties, the two of them riding the carousel at the mall.

I remember her very first spend-the-night, how I set up a tent in the living room. The girls watched patiently, then climbed in and peered out at the television. After many OK, girls. Go to sleeps, this other child of mine said softly in the dark, "Miss Melanie, I wanted to sleep in the magic bed."

So the three of us gathered our pillows and blankies and furry friends and went to my little one's room, where I set up the magic bed (trundle) and both of "my" girls drifted off to sleep.

And tonight, I will be able to share more memories with them, even though they may not know I'm listening. I'll hear their giggles and their quiet girlfriend moments through the door. After many Go to sleeps, they will drift off to sleep (finally) and I will do the same.

Sweet dreams, girls.

Sweet dreams.

Comment of the Week #8

Yo, Linda! This week's award goes to you!



"Way to keep it real, Rocky Balboa." - Linda



You crack me up.

Dear Mrs. Ingalls,

I am sitting here at a thing called a laptop (a small computer that sits on your lap) while my daughter builds a log cabin out of popsicle sticks for school.

Huh? Oh, a laptop is really cool (not chilly) and you can go wireless and take it with you in your SUV or your minivan (those are cars, like wagons without horses) to Starbucks (where you pay five bucks for coffee) and email or blog with your friends on the Internet (another computer thing) which was invented by Al Gore (he lost the election and now he has invented Global Warming.)

Huh? Wha???

What's a computer?

Hmmm... kind of hard to explain.

Anyway, I have a question. How did you build a log cabin without HGTV? Or did you Google it?

:>)

So much for goodness and mercy.

I was out shopping with my daughter yesterday, looking for some new clothes. She needed a new coat because it has dropped below 50 degrees, people! Here in the South, that's cold.



We can brave the heat, but don't make us put on a scarf. No, M'am. Scarves are for the retailers to mark down after Christmas because no one in their right mind down here buys them because, hello, half of the time it is 80 degrees when we are opening our Christmas gifts.



Daughter and I found a new coat and some really cute church clothes. As we were leaving, it was still early, but already dark outside.



When we walked out of the mall to our car, I took her hand and said,"Stay close to Mommy. It is dark. Mean people come out at dark."



She gripped my hand and looked up at me to say,"Why do they come out at dark?"



"Well, they come out in the day, too, but for some reason they come out at dark because they think they are brave. Really, they aren't brave. They just think that because it is dark that no one will see them. But God does."



"Oh."



"But don't worry, we are safe. And if anyone ever tried to mess with my little girl, I would punch them in the mouth."



"Cool!"



Not the best story to tell after this post, but I do try to keep it real, folks.

Hello, My name is...

I was sipping some citrus-flavored mineral water at a party when she asked me.

It was a Let's get together and chat, have some tasty appetizers, listen to a presentation about home-based business, and then browse through a catalogue of gorgeous items while considering our budgets because some of us do not work home-based, mall-based, or otherwise-based kind of party.

And I do love me some tasty appetizers.

And shopping from my neighbor's easy chair.

So she asked me. She wasn't the first. Someone else at the party had asked the same thing.

"What do you do?"

As I swallowed my sip of citrus-flavored mineral water, I paused for a moment, considering her possible response, and I answered, "I am a Stay At Home Mom."

"Oh."

Several years ago, I would not have left it at that. I would have recited my resume of accomplishments, some fairly remarkable, but most not. I would have explained the whys and the how's and the maybe one days.

But not anymore.

Oh, I could tell her what I do. I do laundry. I do dishes. I do the floors. I do the grocery shopping. I even do windows, on occasion.

I get up in the morning, still sleepy from the night before, and I roll out of bed and shuffle to the coffee maker. I start warming the frozen pancakes for breakfast and then trod up the stairs to wake my sleepy daughter for school.

I trod back down the stairs, trying not to trip over the cat who thinks she is supposed to be the first one fed. Then I check on the microwaved pancakes, pour on the syrup (I don't skimp) and set the plate at the kitchen counter, calling upstairs for my sleepy daughter to come down to eat or we will be late this morning.

Meanwhile, my husband is getting ready for work and I am trying to make sure he has clean clothes, and tell him a quick Good Morning before he rushes out the door.

Once I get the sleepy daughter to eat, get dressed and brush her teeth and do a good job or you will end up at the dentist with a cavity, I head out the door in my sweats, no make-up, except for some under-eye concealer and take my daughter to school before I start my day of doing laundry, doing dishes, and doing the grocery shopping.

But the woman at this party eating spinach-artichoke dip doesn't really want to know all of that. She doesn't really want to know what I do. What she really wants to know is who I am.

For some women, who they are is so tightly woven into what they do, that they soon lose who they are. When asked, they say, "I am a mother. I am a wife. I am a teacher. I am a doctor." Yes, they are all of those things, and all of those things are so very important in forming who they are.

And what about me? I am a wife. I am a mother. I am a Stay At Home Mom. I am a Sunday School teacher. I am all of those things, but lately, I am learning and listening and seeing that there is only one job, one identity that is truly important.

I am His.

So when I am doing the laundry and the dishes, and even the windows, my prayer is that I will reflect what Christ would have me be through Him. I fail miserably, mostly when I try to do everything in my own strength. It is when I give it all to God, that His Love shines through, not mine. Only when I humble myself and remember what I am not, can I share with other people what an awesome God He is.

My prayer, my hope, is that when people meet me, they won't wonder what I do, or who I am. They won't even want to know anything about me, but somehow through my faith and failures in this imperfect life I live, they will want to know The God who helps me through it all.

They will only see Him for Who He is. They will see His goodness. His mercy. His love. And they will turn to Him and say, "Nice to meet you."

I feel like such a dumbbell.

If you ever want to feel really, really stupid, just attend a Spelling Bee.

At first you'll sit there all smug with your shoulders back and your spine straight when it all begins.

"AWWW... the first grade words. They are soooo EASY! I remember that!"

Then you realize it is only the warm-up rounds and it has been thirty years since you have been in the first grade. Even then, you were reading about Spot running and running and running (that dog never stopped) and how Jane kept seeing Spot running and running (that Jane needed to get a life.)

Kids today are reading real books with real plots, learning phonics and words like "discombobulated."

OK. That last word? Notsomuch.

The Bee was in a church and the hosts were phenomenal. Hospitality at its best. However, I don't know if it was a matter of timing or what, but somehow the church bells didn't know that there was a spelling bee going on.

Maybe they thought it would be over within an hour and then the bells would chime away in a big, pomp and circumstance finale, but these kids were smart and it took a while for the eliminations. So when a sweet little boy stood up to spell his word, the bells began to ring.

And ring.

And ring some more.

Fortunately, the judges were quite fair and gave the young man another word.

He began to spell again and then the bells rang. Again.

And played a hymn.

OK. One more try. One more word. Here goes...

Another hymn.

I started to get out the hymn book and just sing along, but my daughter would've died. Instead, we all waited and the young man waited patiently yet again for another word.

Until the bells stopped playing.

In the silence, we all watched, slumped down in our seats, feeling a little less smug and less-than-confident in our own spelling skills as the young man, with his shoulders back and his spine straight spelled his way to second place.

And on to the State Spelling Bee.

Comment of The Week #7

This week's award goes to Susanne for this comment-



"We used to have a black cat that got "loaded" on cooked carrots. We'd feed them to her just so we could laugh as she walked and rolled around like she was drunk. Really weird."



A cat drunk on carrots. Good stuff.

R-O-A-D T-R-I-P

We've just returned from a Spelling Bee and I have much to blog about.

I will catch up with all you I-N-T-E-R-N-E-T-S later when I have time to get my thoughts together...

The trials of parenthood. And tender morsels.

When we first brought her home, we should have known. She cried all the way. She kept sticking her little nose through the air holes in that cardboard carrier telling my husband The News.

I had wanted a cat for a long time. We decided to wait until we were settled into our own house and we had looked at the animal shelter several times. One day I saw Maggie- a little, fluffy black kitten in a cage all by herself, away from the other kittens. (Looking back, this should have been a sign.)

The day we first met her, we didn't adopt her. Instead, we walked away and decided to keep looking. All the while, I knew I was in love with that black ball of fur.

My husband returned to the shelter a few days later, planning to surprise me with a kitten. Little did he know, that same black kitty was still there. Another family had taken her home and returned her within the short time we had seen her. He thought it must be meant to be.

And I was surprised. What a thoughtful gift. A sweet little kitten for a crazy cat lady.

Maggie had the kind of health problems most strays suffer, so we nursed her back to health. She was a bit malnourished and just needed a lot of TLC.

She has always been a big eater, ahem. At first the vet said she was trying to catch up on being malnourished, but we figured it out later- she just liked to eat. Not any food. DRY FOOD. This cat was weird.

Early on, in an effort to give her a treat, I bought canned cat food, even "human" tuna. She wouldn't eat it; she just turned up her nose and tried to bury it. The canned food would have helped with the hairballs, but no, this cat wasn't interested.

Until that fateful day, years later, when a small can of addictive goodness arrived in the mail.

It was a free sample of Fancy Feast Elegant Medleys. I laughed but decided to give it a try. She lapped it up. Then went back looking for more. We all were in shock. This must be some pretty special cat food.

What started out as an innocent treat has become an obsession and a learned response that only Pavlov could understand. Because of her kidney related issues, canned foods are just a treat, not a staple good. So whenever Maggie hears any pop-top can opening, she goes insane.

Insane. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she even hallucinates in little kitty cat hallucinations of warm, sunny windows and clean litter boxes.

Now she even starts to twitch when she sees me pull out the paper bowls. Seriously, I think I need to call The Cat Whisperer. Not only do I have to sneak around the kitchen to have my Campbell's soup, I can't even use paper goods.

We've considered a twelve step program, but since Maggie is a cat, you can't get her to do one step much less twelve.

So, I am warning all of you, Internets. Stay away from gourmet cat food. And please, for the love of Garfield and Morris and all of the other orange, annoying cats, stay away, far away from anything labeled with a savory broth.

This may very well be the new gateway drug.

This is the day.

It has been busy around our house with the ark setting sail. (Or would that be a launch?) Hmmm...

So, I wanted to share some thoughts with all of you, dear Internets, on this day, the day with which I struggle each and every year.

Our church had a festival this evening with Trunk or Treat, games and free food for all. At first I struggled with whether or not I should participate. Some of you may remember this post.

I prayed. I prayed a lot. I respect our leadership. I truly do. Our pastor has a love for people and a real heart for all to know Christ. He is the type of pastor who wants to go to the people, to meet them where they are and tell them the saving message of Christ.

I kept thinking about the struggles I have with this day, many of the things that go with it, and about my own Sunday School class. All of them would be there. Should they see their teacher?

And I prayed some more.

In the end, I felt led to participate. I felt God tugging at my heart. I thought about those Sunday School kids and how they should see their teacher support the outreach ministries of the church. And believe me, folks. This event was truly an outreach ministry.

Tonight, hubs, daughter and I passed out over 600 bracelets with a message about God on all of them.

That's 600 kids, with probably 2 parents (you do the math) who I otherwise would have never met. Who knows how many of them will decide when they are searching for a safe haven, a place where people love them with A Love that is beyond compare, to choose our church as that place?

And you know what else? I was in the car this morning after seeing some not-so-friendly costumes at a local business and I thought to myself, "This is the day that The Lord has made."

I will rejoice and be glad in it. I am not going to let anything or anyone prevent me from rejoicing. Nope. Not this day.

Even though I still would love to see our churches have festivals on other days, I know there are so many kids out there, some of whom walked by my trunk and held out their precious little hands, who otherwise would not have stepped onto the church grounds if it had not been for tonight's festival. I am thankful for the opportunity to smile at them and offer them a message of hope and of love.

So now you know why I have been working on the ark. My prayer is that these many people, some of them lost, will not remember a simple, cardboard replica of God's amazing promise and grace. Nor will they remember a saved-by-grace, middle-aged woman, still growing in her faith, still struggling with the answers, sharing the message of God's amazing promise and grace.

My prayer is that somewhere, tucked down deep in their hearts, is the message of God's amazing promise and grace.

And tonight I am going to pray for them all. All 1800 + of them.

Comment of the Week #6

The Comment of the Week goes to Julie for this quote about Atlanta-



"I will never forget getting stuck at a Subway with a friend of ours who lives in Atlanta because the time had passed that we could drive anywhere. Apparently there are certain times that no one who lives in Atlanta will go anywhere! I dont know where all the traffic comes from since everyone is waiting wherever they are for "rush" hourssss to be over. We went to the World of Coke on our honeymoon. I thought it was great."- Julie



I am sorry for laughing at your expense, Julie but the image of you being stuck at Subway because no one- even from Atlanta- would drive at that time of day cracked. me. up.



Classic Jeff Foxworthy moment!

Gettin' to the church on time.

Daylight Saving Time ends next week in the US, unless you live in a few US States and Territories that never started it.

Those rebels.

So don't turn back time tonight, folks. Save that hour for next Saturday.

I was almost one of those people who turned back the clock tonight thanks to my calendar. Thankyouverymuch, Calendar Maker People for not listening to Congress and almost making me late for teaching Sunday School, a class of kindergartners who would have been saying, "Where's Miss Melanie? I want snack."

Please Pray for Linda...

Linda had her wisdom teeth removed and is now having complications. She is seeing the dentist again this morning.

Please pray for her and leave her some encouraging words on her blog.



Thanks,

Where's Mr. Edwards when you need him?

I decided to take a break from the crafty, glue gun goodness to give y'all an update on the pond.

We have beavers.

Our neighbor on one side of us has, I mean had, some gorgeous tropical plants and lush, green landscaping. She now has several banana tree stumps and a bald patch on her lawn.

It seems that beavers have a sweet tooth for bananas.

And St. Augustine grass.

Yesterday I found our dock's outdoor lighting taken apart. Seriously. These guys took one outdoor landscape light and disassembled it. I am guessing they need batteries for the sound system they are installing in their Neighborhood Pond Condominium.

The sound system will be so sweet with the other neighbors' landscape lights, and the lily pads from her gold fish pond.

It's like they have their own little Trading Spaces going on out there.

The neighbors with the gold fish pond decided to install motion flood lights to try to deter the beavers. The other night, one of the lights came on and our neighbor said,"Look! There's the beaver!"

Motion lights don't even scare off these critters. They just help illuminate all the goods awaiting them so that they can fill their little beaver loot bags while wearing their little beaver ski caps. Nothing stops these bandits; they make raccoons look like Boy Scouts.

Our yard has not suffered much damage. We have sort of a retaining wall that I think is keeping them from coming in the yard. Either that or they just come to our house for their Duracell batteries.

I'll bet they are out there right now, lurking on my blog on their little wireless laptops.

(sigh)

Noah had how long??

I will be back later.



I've got some crafty stuff to do.



It looks like this ark may just set sail...



:>)

WFMW- Scrubbing Sponges

I have started using a different scrubber-

Chore Boy Non-Metal Sponges with soap pad.

I have one in the kitchen and one for the bathroom. It works great for soap scum and for pots. The great thing is that they don't fall apart like other plastic scrubbers and even when the soap runs out, you can still use it.

Love these!

See Shannon for more tips this Wednesday.