CLEMSONGIRL AND THE COACH

Helicopter Words

2012-01-31T08:41:00.003-12:00

Today Ryan, 10, brought home a letter addressed to "Mom and Dad". It was a thank you note of sorts. He said he was thankful for his "lovely home" and "vast collection of books". He also made mentioned of the "love of his family". I was both delighted and surprised at his sweet words, because after all, he is a boy. And the son of a snarky mom to boot.

Where did my 5th grader learn to express himself like that I wondered? Oh, duh. My family has always been one to share our feelings with words more than actions.

For Christmas, Ryan asked my parents for an RC helicopter. In any event, Papa Jack and Granny Diane were happy to oblige and the cool helicopter showed up under the tree on the 25th.

Some days later, whilst I was sleeping in at my parents, Ryan and Jack were up early with them. From what I understand, they took the helicopter outside in the Chicago winter wind sometime around 7am.

By the time I stumbled dowstairs, the 4 of them were sitting at the kitchen table somber and silent. I poured my coffee and asked what had happened. It seems that the helicopter flew a bit higher than expected and was currently stuck in a huge tree somewhere past the second story of my parents' house. Ryan was upset, and I think he had been crying. My parents were annoyed. I was stumped because he had made a bad decision to take it out in the wind, but I knew he hadn't done it on purpose.

I said as much. Some hours later apologies were exchanged, but the helicopter remained in the tree, inaccessible by any ladder created by man. At least not one we owned.

A few days later, we boarded a plane back to Atlanta. Sans helicopter. Ryan was legitimately bummed. So were my parents.

January 4 the doorbell rang. UPS delivered a small box.

In the box was Ryan's helicopter, and this letter...

"Dear Ryan,

I was a very happy little helicopter when your Papa Jack and Granny Diane decided to buy me to give to you as a Christmas present. I could hardly wait for you to unwrap me on Christmas morning. I knew we would have a lot of fun together.

The day you took me outside to see how high I could fly, I couldn't help but show off. I wanted to be a really cool toy for you, so I flew highter and higher. What I didn't think about was the strong wind. It just carried me away up into that monster tree.

I tried and tried to get free and I knew you were trying to fly me out, but nothing was working. I saw you looking for me several times over the next few days. When I saw that your Papa was taking you to the airport, I was so sad. I knew the winter would be cold and snowy and then when the spring came, the leaves would cover me up and no one would be able to see me.

On New Year's Eve, I was still hoping that I could get down from that tree. But my hopes were fading.

There was a fierce wind that night, some say up to 50 MPH. I clung to that tree fearing that I would be blown to pieces if I let go. I was also afraid that I would get blown too far from your Papa's and Granny's house and they would never find me.

But then, I ddecided that the wind that had tossed me into that tree was my way out. I finally let go and the wind took me gently to the ground. I couldn't believe it.

Then I knew I would just have to wait a bit. Your Granny was checking on me all the time and I knew she would notice I wasn't in the tree anymore. She found me on New Year's Day and I don't know who was more excited, your Granny, your Papa or me.

Your Papa checked me over, recharged me and gave me new batteries. He flew me in the kitchen and your Granny cheered.

By now, I hope you are holding me in your hands and we can have more fun together. It is going to be a good year for us!

Love,

Your Rescue Helicopter that needed to be rescued"

Ryan stood in the family room and read the letter silently. He cried. I read it, I cried. Then he put the helicopter on the shelf in the armoir. For safekeeping, he said.

So that. That is why I am the parent I am. That is why I express myself in words. That's why song lyrics and books and written language is my love. My parents gave me that love and gift, through nurture and through nature.

Words.

It Doesn't Make You Smarter

2012-01-23T11:35:00.003-12:00

So last Wednesday I picked up the minis from school and drove to the doctor. I finally was willing to admit that I had thrown out my back. Again. February 2009 I did it whilst attempting to repair my washing machine. I failed to fix it and ended up in physical therapy. So this time wasn't a shock. No clue how I did it, but damn, did I do it.

By the time the doctor arrived I was literally on all 4s on the floor in her office. My head was on the step of the bed and I was sobbing. After she injected me with what can only be described as a crap ton of Toradol she also gave me a prescription for Flexiril, Hydrocodone and my all time favorite; Phenergan. I am a real vom expert and we wanted to avoid that at all costs. We did not. The next 3 days are a blur of sleep, itching and endless vomiting. For real one day I slept 17 of 24 hours,

If you know me you know that I don't do things halfway. So today I ended up back at the doc, Because I had a reaction to the meds, i am covered in hives, I also have some crazy virus and an ear infection. Word. That's what's happening. I look like ET. Coach is at his wit's end and I am so sick and tired of feeling bad.

Today I landed some antibiotics and, wait for it... Prednisone, Oh yeah, girl got some legit steroids today. After one dose, I was torn whether I wanted to mow the lawn, run a marathon or die. A friend described Prednisone today as Superman juice, and it totally is! Except it doesn't make you smarter.

I took 5 minutes today trying to open a container of sea salt caramel gelato. It's a freaking screw top.

TGIF and a Ponytail

2012-01-13T01:32:00.004-12:00

Not. I hate Friday. I actually I hate it less today since Coach is not working this weekend and I AM! Ha. We have 2 basketball games tomorrow and he is the man in charge of the minis. I have 84,000 showings on Saturday. The weather in Atlanta is a complete cluster and I expecting to be sporting boots and a scarf. Barf.

Currently I am sporting these Nick and Nora flannel pajamas and a Barbie flip ponytail. I had a discussion yesterday with a friend regarding ponytails. I told said friend that when a girl shows up for an event/date in a ponytail, it's a cop out. Save for the "fancy, intentional ponytail" with the holder covered, it's lame. I also reminded said friend that there isn't a woman on this planet who rocks a Barbie flipped ponytail more than I do. These are important discussions. Don't underestimate it. hee hee

Enjoy your Friday sweets, I'm off to ... straighten out my ponytail.

Thursday

2012-01-12T04:07:00.004-12:00

You know you live in Atlanta when you wake up and hear this on the news, "Car-B-Cue on Ponce at Fernbank" and it makes complete and total sense.

Today was supposed to be slammed full; condo showings all day and 2 dinner dates tonight. But, as per usual, things changed last minute and I am down to one birthday dinner tonight. So I have taken full advantage of the time at home today, sporting leggings (as pants!) and a fleece. Knocking out some administrative whatnots like soccer registration. Which involves birth certificates and a check for roughly $84,000. Or actually 2 check for that amount. Both the minis have opted out of spring baseball (PTL!) and are both playing soccer.

I can't really imagine how Coach feels about them skipping baseball this season, and I am unlikely to open up that line of communication, I envision tears and head banging. On his part. I on the other hand, am simply supportive of whatever sport they choose. hahaha JUST Kidding. You know I wish they just took piano lessons and other indoor, climate controlled activities.

As far as the Casa de Chaos is concerned, I have officially returned it to it's pre-Christmas state, save for the Clemson tree. It is still up and fully decorated. I can't bring myself to take it down. Partly because it's adorable and partly because I am unmotivated to walk my happy arse to the shed to get the appropriate boxes to do so. Shed. Yeah, we have a shed. But even if you've been to my house you might not realize it. It is adjacent to screened in porch and looks like an extension of the house. Same paint and trim. But it seems a far walk. Plus, I would have to put on shoes and well...I don't feel like it.

I made a list of the things I want to do to the Casa in 2012. I have yet to make a list of the ways I will pay for said upgrades. I figure my list is like a vision board. If I put it in the iPhone it will magically happen. Siri can do that, right?

Have a great Thursday, it's not a Monday, but we can pretend.

Thursday

2012-01-12T04:07:00.001-12:00

You know you live in Atlanta when you wake up and hear this on the morning news,

Don't Know Much About Making Up

2012-01-11T01:03:00.006-12:00

My routine and inability to deviate from the products I know and love is nothing new. I have worn basically the same makeup since I was allowed wear makeup. Ok, truth, I was rocking some raspberry lip gloss in 6th grade behind my mom's back. Sorry Mom, but the Junior High bathroom was a landmine of lip gloss sharing.

In any case, I ventured into Sephora in March...I posted about them giggling at my use of Noxema etc. But since then, I have stepped up the makeup a bit. Heaven knows I am no expert and you won't likely see a YouTube tutorial here, but this is what I have been using the last few months. I have not the patience this morning to adjust the blurry photos, so work it out. I am still bitter.

Smashbox Photofinish Primer. I use the original one.

Benefit Play Sticks foundation. I have always been a fan of stick foundation, it's less messy. I use this one in Tea Party. It smells fine, which for a migraine sufferer is really a deciding factor.

Ulta Eyelid Primer. It used to be in a compact which I preferred, but now it's in a tube. It's cheap and easy.

Bare Minerals loose eyeshadow in Sex Kitten. It's described as mahogany gold, but I think it's just plain sparkly chocolate. I'm just saying.

Chanel lip liner. I know, I know, it's ridiculously expensive. But it made it's way into my Christmas stocking with a bottle of Chanel Chance and let's say this: you get what you pay for.

I pair that million dollar Chanel lip liner with my $1 e.l.f. liquid lip gloss in Maple Sugar. Yes, it's $1. But it smells like mint and it's not sticky. Oh, and did I mention, it's $1?! Word.

That's all I know. I am still using Noxema, Olay moisturizer and Herbal Essences cheapy shampoo. A leopard doesn't REALLY change her spots.

Especially when they are Tiger Stripes!

The Pictures to Prove It

2012-01-10T15:09:00.003-12:00

I'd like to say that I'm still here. I am, truly. Admittedly I slacked on you a bit in the last little while. Truth is I was very busy in Q4 2011! Also, I have become a little bitter about blogging. Seems like everyone has a blogging "agenda" and that's just not my thing. I blog when I have something funny or awful to share, not because it's on my To Do list. I love blogging and I am regretting letting my writing, if I dare call it that, slip. But I am rewarding your loyalty- ha!- with a arse load of pictures I just dumped off my iPhone. Yes, I abandoned the Blackberry in December for the 4s. Now my bathroom self-portraits are clear. Still a bit random, but more clear.

I got my annual haircut in December. I really don't even think I can call it a haircut. I let her TRIM about 3 millimeters. It's stupid long and I am loving it. It allows the Hair Cycle to go even longer. And let's be totally honest, I am so lazy. So there's that.

Basketball season for the minis has allowed me to actually get dressed on Saturdays for the games. The climate control of indoor sports makes this girl legit happy!

The last Caramel Brulee Latte of the season. I accessorized my Starbucks this season with the red sparkly cup sleeve. I'm tempted to use it again for February and consider it Valentine-y. I am back to Skinny Vanilla Lattes. My arse could use some skinny.

Basketball. Ok, so when I said I was getting dressed, that was sort of early in the season. I'm starting to lose interest here, and please note this is not just a bathroom pic. It's the girls' locker room. Stepping it up!

The new minivan is completely space age. The minis love the wireless headphones and the DVD players. You know I loved my monogrammed minivan to death, and the new van is getting equally fabulous treatment. It is less than 2 months old and it's gotten a weekly spa treatment. I heart it. I do NOT however, heart the car payment. Bastards.

We flew to Chicago for Christmas. Ryan thought he was hot stuff riding the shuttle from the Parking Spot. I totally chose that place because the shuttle is polka dot, and polka dots are adorable.

Christmas Eve Mass. I decided to bring big Southern hair up North. Of course this is nothing for Atlanta!

Jack was my seatmate on the flight home. The minis are so used to flying alone that they were kind of annoyed that we were with them.

New Year's Day the minis and I left Atlanta for CLEMSON! I sported my Clemson purple even though I am SOLID ORANGE. I totally own the fact that I cried the minute we got off on exit...19B. When I saw the Clemson In Season, Every Season sign, I had to pull over. Gather myself together, and blow my nose. Tears of joy. I swear it's a magical place.

Took this photo...duh, outside Littlejohn. Coach Brownell was super sweet and gave the boys the royal treatment. I cried again during the Alma Mater. Ok, and at halftime when they played the video. My blood runneth orange.

Jack and Ryan managed to spill 3 drinks, at least one cup of ice cream and heaven knows what else. They are graceful, just like me.

Sorry for party rockin'. Yeah, I will be totally up front with you and tell you that I think I am kind of hot stuff in my new red Chuck Taylor's. I can't say that I won't be ordering them in a bunch of other colors, because that? Is happening. ASAP.

I rallied a little for this past Saturday's basketball games. Plus, I was wearing my Chucks. So, adorable shoes. Duh.

That's all I have for tonight. But I will tell you that I am letting the attitude about blogging go. I will see you soon. SUPER SOON.

Smooches!

2012

2012-01-03T05:43:00.002-12:00

Ahhh, New Year's! January. I love it. January is like one HUGE Monday for me, and Heaven knows I love a Monday. Fresh start and clean slate: music to my ears!

See you soon sweets!

Epic Fail.

2011-12-14T00:35:00.006-12:00

Oh it's been a MONTH. A MONTH?! Really? Can one even call oneself a successful blogger after a month.

Oh, hell freaking yes I can...keep reading.

Every year I take a few days and leave town. Alone. No Coach and no minis. 2 years ago I went to Charlotte. Last year I went to Oprah. This year I went to the beach. Sort of.

On Sunday morning I loaded up the new (not yet monogrammed silver 2012 Town and Country. Also known as the "damn car I had to buy after the monogrammed minivan was totaled") car. I lovingly placed my well packed suitcase in the back of the car. I kissed the minis and hugged the Nanny. I got a Skinny Vanilla Latte and put NPR on the radio. (Sidenote: NPR's "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me!" is a favorite. I am a nerd Work it out.)

Put the hotel address in the nav and headed down I-20. To tell you that I was anxious to relax and enjoy the next 3 days is possibly the biggest understatement of 2011. 2011; year of the Epic Fail.

Sunday night I ordered a spinach salad with grilled chicken. Roughly an hour later I began the downward spiral of breaking every single ironclad rule of hotel stay.

Violent food poisoning ensued. For the next 8 hours.

Rule #1 of hotel stay: Never, never sit or God forbid lie down on the floor.

Yeah, that. Not only did I SIT on the bathroom floor, I straight up stripped off my clothes and lay on that cold tile. I pressed my FACE against that floor and begged for a reprieve from what you now know was the 2011 Epic Food Poisoning Fail.

Rule #2 of hotel stay: Never, never allow a hotel blanket to touch your body without the protective layer of a clean sheet in between. Yeah, that too. After about 3 hours of lying on that cold tile in my panties and bra, I was beyond freezing. So I did indeed drag a hotel blanket in to the bathroom and allow it to touch me. Bed bugs be damned, at that point I was making barters with God.

Rule #3 of hotel stay: Never, never take an actual bath in the hotel tub. Yeah, that as well. Some time around 6am, shivering, sweating and with less than a clear head, I decided that a bath *might* make me either feel better or at a minimum WANT TO DIE LESS, I indeed ran a hot bath and got in. As I sat in the hotel bathtub, visions of MRSA danced through my head. Screw it, I may die of MRSA, but I would be clean. Ish.

Sometime after the sun came up, it occurred to me that I had a bottle of Phenergan in my car. The emergency migraine kit. Praise God. I dragged myself off the floor and put on what can only be described as Homeless Chic. Pink silk pajama pants and a not that clean black fleece. I couldn't bring myself to lace up my trainers or put on socks, so I made the interesting shoe choice of black ballet flats with jewels across the toe.

My hair was a disaster and eye makeup? Well, I call bullshank on that being waterproof mascara. Anyway.

I got on the elevator and pressed the lobby button.

When the doors opened, I can only imagine the noise that came from my throat. I took one step off the elevator and looked up. I had walked ONTO THE SET OF A MOVIE. For real and stuff. They were filming a MOVIE in the lobby of the hotel. Dear God.

Someone took me by the elbow and escorted me around the hotel to my car. No questions asked. Raised eyebrows for sure, but no questions.

2 doses of Phenergan and a day of sleep later... turns out I WAS just one adventure with salmonella away from a smaller jean size.

Epic Fail?

DUH.

Mama Drama

2011-11-14T10:54:00.005-12:00

Forget it. I am just going to buy a Flintstones car. I could use the leg workout.

This whole car shopping is for the birds. I am sick about the whole thing, and am torn between buying a POS for a lot of money, or something better for a lot of money. Because cars? Cost a lot of damn money. I know my level of tolerance and I've about reached it with the loss of the ALMOST PAID OFF monogrammed minivan.

So as a distraction from that hot mess...

Date night 2 weeks ago. He even bought me a beer. Ok, truth? The AD bought my beer. But he sat next to me whilst I drank it. Close enough.

Preppy Paper Girl was sweet enough to bring me to the Clemson game. Ok, she calls it the Tech game. I call it the recent unpleasantness.

Georgia A-Scary-um. I love taking the boys to the aquarium each year for Halloween and this year Coach even joined us. Admittedly I had to pull Coach kicking and screaming from the manta ray pool.

I swear I am cuter in person.

Trick or treating is my personal idea of Hell. Luckily I don't take them! I sat at home and folded laundry. And counted the days until I can put up the Christmas tree.

I'm Not in a Ditch Somewhere

2011-11-13T11:52:00.004-12:00

It's been insane. I'd make excuses, but who cares? Work, the minis, sports, drying my hair...all of it has kept me away from the blog. So here's a recap of the last few weeks. Try not to pass out.

RIP Monogrammed Minivan
I am sad to report that I totaled the monogrammed minivan a week and a half ago. I was driving to pick up the boys from school and a University student pulled across several lanes of traffic and I slammed into him going 35 mph. He *was* driving a Camaro with a very bad attitude. I am sick about having to buy a car, we were 11 months away from not having a car payment. I have another 2 weeks with the rental (I cried, the adjustor extended the rental, le duh) and to figure out what I want to buy. Barf. In the meantime I'm rolling in a 2012 Explorer like a pimp. It's ridiculous and even Sister Veronica Anne calls it a "Nice ride!"

Birds and Bees
I gave the minis the very simple birds and bees talk. Ryan is going into middle school next year and there's no sense in telling him and not Jack. Those 2 don't keep secrets about anything, so I drove them both to Sonic, bought them Slushies and ruined thier lives with the information. When I was finished, I asked them what questions they had. Jack's question was "Could we get in a time machine, go back in time, and you never, ever tell me that?" I laughed so hard I cried. That night I asked them what they wanted for dinner. They yelled down the stairs to me, "NOT EGGS!" Boys, le sigh.

Guest Blogging
I was recently asked to guest blog for SunTrust Banks. I love them and was so excited to do it. Here's what I wrote.

There's more. FitGirl had a baby, Halloween came and went, I went to a Clemson football game. The minis are playing basketball...

But let's get down to brass tacks.

Cyclones Soccer
Remember this post? Yes, agreed to coach U14 co-ed soccer this fall. We finished the regular season 8-1 and the final game of the tournament was yesterday. I will say this about that Championship game (I absolutely postively coached that game wearing pigtails and the requisite lip gloss), in which the Cyclones defeated the Wolverines 2-0...

All I do is win.

Sweet Java

2011-10-25T03:15:00.003-12:00

Seriously loves, you know how much I love my coffee. I'd take it in an IV if I wasn't petrified of needles!

When I was in college, Clemson Sigma Chis had a Derby Queen, and part of the process was raising money for Children's Miracle Network, which I totally rocked at. Mostly because I hit up my Dad's fraternity brothers, but hey, dollars are dollars!

This is such a cool way to combine coffee and charity...check it out!

Each year, Bruegger’s offers membership in its Bottomless Mug Club – for just $139 (depending on location) members receive a Travel Mug, wallet card or keytag and receive free, limitless refills of coffee, tea or soft drinks throughout the following year.

For the second year, Bruegger’s has partnered with Children’s Miracle Network to make the Bottomless Mug even more special. For every mug purchased from October 27, 2011 through January 31, 2012, Bruegger’s will donate a portion of the proceeds to Children’s Miracle Network benefiting local children’s hospitals throughout the country. Bruegger’s hopes to raise $100,000 for Children’s Miracle Network this year.
To kick off this great tradition, Bruegger’s 300 plus locations all across the country will host Free Coffee Day on November 9th. They are inviting guests to come in and enjoy a piping hot cup of Bruegger’s coffee and asking them to make a donation to their local Children’s Hospital in return. All money collected will be given back to that locations neighborhood hospital.

As if I needed a reason for endless cups of coffee...duh.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

2011-10-24T12:43:00.001-12:00

Beauty Sleep

2011-10-14T08:52:00.007-12:00

Candle. Both ends. For real.

I've missed you! I have been so incredibly lucky the last few weeks, working like crazy and managing the minis and their activities. Plus, you know, buying lip gloss. (Also trying to buy new bras. Seems all the bra manufacturers think I want Kevlar and Teflon covered cushions on my chest. I do not. But I digress.) So all told, not getting much rest and surely not blogging!

Update on The Cyclones. We are 4-1. We lost last Saturday and I was not wearing my hot pink shorts. Coincidence? I thinketh notsomuch. One of my players had the flu, and well...the other team just played better. I admit I was a *smidge* bummed when we lost, but when my 13 year old goalie cried, I knew that my team was more upset than I was. Chins up, we play again tomorrow.

Additionally, the minis are both playing school basketball. Yep, you got it. Currently I am responsible for taking them to 4 sets of practices/games. Gack! I was less than pleased to learn that Jack's basketball games, (7 of them AWAY!) begin at 8a on Saturdays. Really? Really?! Basically if I intend to have clean hair, I will have to get up at crack thirty. Super.

I've been going out a bunch lately too! Coach and I have been going to Athletic Department events, Blogger/Twitter friends have been having lots of dinners and old college friends have been visiting. We had weekend company twice in the last 4 weeks and I'm loving it.

However? Clemsongirl needs some beauty sleep (and an iPhone 4s that takes better pictures).

Stat.

Observations

2011-10-03T11:15:00.002-12:00

For those of you who don't follow Twitter, many fashionistas take pictures of their OOTD (outfit of the day) or OOTN (outfit of the night) and post the details of the designer clothing. I think it's terribly funny to do this when you are me, because the only designer clothes I own are the black sweats that I spilled bleach on and subsequently colored in the spot with black Sharpie. House of Sharpie. hee hee

But in looking throught the last 10 or so pics I have posted, I have some observations. Not surprisingly, so does my mother.

1. I need a full length mirror. Turning the Blackberry sideways is the only way I can fit more in the picture.

2. I need another cardi like I need a hole in my head. Suburban soccer moms wear cardis but I think I've reached my limit. Although I am jonesing for a true orange cardi...and maybe a kelly green one...and...I digress

3. My Blackberry takes horrible pictures. I need an iPhone. STAT!

4. Clearly I need to break free of the black pants. I just counted 11 pair in my closet. This is an issue.

My mother's observation:

"You look cute. But you're worrying me with the pictures in the weird bathrooms. Love, Mom"

Pan Am Treat

2011-09-28T11:19:00.003-12:00

I love love love the new ABC show Pan Am. I have always had a massive girly crush on Flight Attendants, although I much preferred when they were called Stewardesses. I had planned on dressing as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz for Halloween, but seriously? I need to be a Pan Am stewardess! I will rock that hat and for real? The bag. Dear God I love that bag.

Made me think about this picture from Clemson Rush 1995, our theme for the skit round was Theta Airlines. We employed the 2 finger point (which I perfected in my years working at Disney!) and for the record, I have the same hair and makeup...16 years later.

If only I still fit in that navy skirt...

Non Sequitor

2011-09-18T23:41:00.002-12:00

*Picked up my brother who flew in from Chicago. I took him to The Varsity on Friday (where he ate gluten-free and with a fork and knife. He's fancy like that) and to the Waffle House on Sunday. He had never been to either, he's more of a Topolobampo and Fleur de Lis kind of guy, but he rolled with it! I loved hanging out with him sans Minis on Friday. He makes me laugh so hard that my stomach hurts. He's a Triathlete so I'm sure he was appalled at me in my hot pink shorts and less than toned calves on Saturday, but he's my little brother, so he knows to shut it.
He calls the Minis "Nuggets" and they think he hung the moon, especially Jack.

*Had another soccer Saturday. Jack's team tied 3-3 (which he thinks is total bullshank) and he scored twice. He scored the second time from midfield as the last play of the game. He was so happy he walked a little taller. Which was awesome, because U14 The Cyclones didn't have any subs, so little 8 year old Jack subbed in AS A FORWARD for his big brother's game! He basically thinks he is a hot shot now, but is too shy to admit it.

Oh, and if you're keeping track? Cyclones win, 6-0. Turns out I am not horrible at this whole coaching gig. I still throw up repeatedly before the games!

*Yesterday in Mass, Ryan was getting a little, ahem, dare I say, bored. I know, I know. My 5th grade Catholic student should be riveted by the speaker discussing the financial soundness of our parish, ha. He knows better than to get chatty and I know better than to let the boys sit beside one another, it's a Mama sandwich with one of them on each side of me. Ryan started looking all around and Jack leaned across my lap and poked him in the leg. Then he pointed at the hanging crucifix and whispered to Ryan, "Eyes on the prize!"

Happy Monday! Best day of the week!

Smooches,
Jenn

Help

2011-09-15T03:10:00.002-12:00

Today on Facebook I posted this as my status:

"I just Skeetered a Hilly. Big Time."

Lots of people didn't understand.

Do you?

Blasted

2011-09-13T11:14:00.003-12:00

I got blasted in the calf with a stupid soccer ball tonight at practice. It's totally going to leave a mark. I mean, you won't technically be able to see the mark because of my spray tan...but we will all know it's there. hee hee Before you assume that I was in the way, "the incident" occurred during a water break. I will forever refer to it as "the incident". Not to be confused with "The Situation in a Venti Cup." Moving on.

One little rude player was chatting and not paying attention when I was explaining a drill (said drill involved penalty kicks and keeping your hands behind your back when defending, natch) so I made him run.

That little turkey was my own child, so relax. He's got a real issue with running his mouth, which I still don't really know how to deal with. Technically I didn't make him "run", I sent him across the park to get a ball, and told him to do it quickly. See how clever that was?

Tomorrow I'm getting the dishwasher repaired. Again. It's the second new dishwasher we have had in 4 months and it is janky. Frigidaire keeps sending a repair person, then replacing the entire unit. I'm going to wear my coach's whistle and blow it at him if he takes too long.

I have stuff to do.

Smooches,
Coach Jenn

Game On

2011-09-10T07:34:00.001-12:00

Cyclones win, 5-1. I'm just saying.

Practice Makes Perfect

2011-09-07T23:27:00.003-12:00

I made it through my first practice, barely.

Admittedly I spent a substantial amount of time online researching workout plans and building a practice template. I planned to break the practice into warm-up/ball skills/passing skills/shooting skills/scrimmage. I had it laminated and on a ring with laminated roster, schedule and "responsible coaching" information. Homegirl was prepared. Terrified, but prepared. Surely that counts for something!

I showed up on the field about 15 minutes early to find a family of deer mid-field. Awesome, because I was already throwing up in my mouth from nerves, I really needed to deal with Bambi too. I sent Jack to dribble the ball in that general direction and the deer headed back into the woods. I assume that the moment the first game starts, the 3 point buck will wander into the goal. Fricking frack. Good thing Gun and Garden ran a subscription special recently. Just kidding. Sort of.

When my players arrived I about fell over. Of course, Ryan will turn 11 this year so we are playing U14 league. (There is no U12.) Which means that there are some players on my team that are 13.

13.

Like they are in EIGHTH GRADE. Three of them are taller than I am. One of the girls has such a serious attitude problem I vacillated between asking her if she had her monthly visitor and calling up her Mama. She's got one more opportunity to work out the 'tude, then I'm handling that. Let's be clear, if anyone on this team is going to have attitude? It's going to be Coach Jenn.

Ummmm...right.

One of the other male coaches (oh, wait...ALL of the other coaches are men) arrived halfway through and called across the field, "Hey Jenn! Did you bring your hair bow?"

Oh Hell yes I did. And my lip gloss.

Go Cyclones!

*I think*

Soccer

2011-09-07T08:38:00.003-12:00

I am about to throw up in my mouth. More than a *smidge* nervous for my first soccer practice tonight. And for the record, sweats are not a cop out. This is my Autumnal Mantra; "Sweats are not a cop out."

Here goes nothing...

Winner!

2011-09-02T08:36:00.003-12:00

Happy Friday! I assume everyone is wearing their college colors?

Wearing my Clemson Orange here, of course!

The winner of the Erin Condren Monthly Planner is :

Kristin

Congrats and send me an email with your contact information so I can give you details,

my email address is in my blog header.

Sparkle

2011-09-01T14:04:00.003-12:00

Tonight I went to the "coaches' meeting" for soccer and I picked up my gear.

So far, in one sentence of this blog post, there are a multitude of problems. The first being me going to a meeting of coaches on my own behalf, the second being me getting and being responsible for, gear. Gag me. I now have in my possession a bag of soccer balls, a stack of orange cones, a whistle and a ball pump. That's pretty much a whole mess of things I don't really need/want to understand.

But you know what? I stopped at Office Max and had my schedule and roster laminated, so I feel much better about that. Frankly, I think that was super smart and will look cute clipped to my monogrammed bag. Because the monogrammed bag? Is happening. Duh.

I picked up my teams uniforms. I also got mine. It's well, ginormous. Not for nothing, Homegirl does NOT need an Adult Large. Just saying. I may be the first person on the planet to take a soccer jersey to be altered. Work it out. Then I stopped by and got a new battery put in my *pink* Ironman watch. I have no idea how to set it to the correct time, but it has a stop watch function and that seems important.

We start practice, which I now know I am supposed to call "workouts" on Tuesday. I have a rough idea of how that will look. I have 5 days to firm it up. Plenty of time for me and Google to figure it out, right?

For the record? I rolled up to that meeting in a dress. Hair Cycle: Day 1. Silver blinged out flop flops and the usual Cherry lip gloss.

I mean let's be real.

I'm bringing the sparkle to soccer.

Dear Interval Training

2011-08-30T00:35:00.008-12:00

Dear Interval Training,

Politely eff off. You are rude, hurtful and annoying. I am 36 and too old for your shenanigans. Yes, I need you. It's a co-dependent relationship. I want to quit you, but something keeps bringing me back for your abuse. Usually it's the need to fit in my jeans.

We are not breaking up. Yet. But please know, I hate you. I always have and I always will. There is nothing you can do to change that.

xo
Hugs and Cherry Lip Gloss Smooches,

Jenn (and my arse)

When I was in middle school I started playing volleyball. Partly because I thought it was fun and partly because my ability to play basketball like my father was, well, not gonna happen. Feel free to insert *bricklayer* at any point. In any case, in the summer, several of us signed up for a "camp". Keep in mind that this was in the late 80s/early 90s and so these summer athletic camps were not nearly the fiesta of ridiculousness that they are now.

We showed up in our soffe shorts, with long sleeve tees (for dive and rolls, duh), ponytails and coolers with our lunches. We had sessions in the Haines gym and it was HORRIBLE. They yelled at us and made us do all of these super weird things. Like work really hard and sweat. I wasn't a huge fan. There was some vomiting and some of the girls (weenies) quit. I wasn't the best, but I am no quitter. At the end of the camp we got these shirts that said "I SURVIVED" on the back in neon green.

I hated that shirt.

That's me in the center, circa 1991. Love the knee pads.

In high school we had summer volleyball clinic or workouts or whatever they called it back then. Our Coach built these rough wooden boxes of varying heights. We lined up behind them, jumped on/over them, ran up the stairwell, down the hall and got back in line. 84,000 times. Totally old school and totally disgusting. Some of the boxes were low and no big deal, but some of them were high enough that we (read: I) would scrape our calves against them if we didn't gain full clearance. That? Wasn't working for me.

My mom and I spent an unhealthy amount of time shopping for school clothes and I wasn't planning on wearing calf scrapes and scabs as my accessories. So I learned really quickly how to clear those boxes. I survived.

I hated those boxes.

Our freshmen coach was big on running laps around the indoor track for not calling the ball. So I learned that unless I wanted to run extra (natch, I did NOT) I better manage that situation right quickly. She also was a fan of making us run laps for talking. So, the constant back and forth of knowing when to call out and when to shut my trap was a full time job.

I hated running laps.

Junior year, our coach thought running the stadium was super fun. Homeboy was incorrect. I like to know what the end point of a task is, and there was never any indication of how many of these we were going to have to run. Plus, I am fairly certain we had to do this more than once in our Spankies (see photo above, gack!), those were our actual uniforms. So maybe those football players made it "2 a days" to make sure they didn't miss that.

I hated those stadium stairs.

Fast forward to today. I am on the mother scratching treadmill this morning. Looking for perspective and a smaller arse. It was an "angry run". You know, pent up stuff in your head that you need to work through? Oh, I worked through it alright. For an hour. I'm sweaty. I'm 36. No one made me do it. I wore Clemson shorts and an old sports bra (truth: an old sports bra that I borrowed from a friend in high school and failed to return, sorry Melinda) and a ponytail. I cranked the music up so loud that the labrador was whining downstairs.

I kind of love my attitude.
But I still hate exercising.

Erin Condren Giveaway

2011-08-28T07:18:00.006-12:00

Earlier this summer I blogged about the Erin Condren Monthly Notebook from Tiny Prints, I love it! This week I am so excited to be able to be hosting a giveaway for one! The Erin Condren collection at Tiny Prints has a ton of designs, all of which you can personalize with or without photos!
I ordered the Taffy Stripe in nautical colors with my name and I couldn't love it more. Of course, I just added in all my soccer practices...now that I am Coach Jenn and all. I may have to change the blog name as suggested, to CLEMSONGIRL IS THE COACH. hee hee

There are regular monthly notebook planners as well as wedding planners. Let me tell you what; that's a ton cuter than the 3 ring binder I used back in 1998 planning my wedding! Seems like everyone has been getting engaged or pregnant lately (not me, in either category of course!) so it's a perfect time to get organized. The birth announcements are so cute too!

To enter:

1. Pop over to Tiny Prints and check out the Erin Condren collection.

2. Leave me a comment telling me which design is your favorite. (1 entry)

3. Post this giveway on Facebook and leave a separate comment letting me know you did. (1 entry)

4. Post this giveaway on your blog and leave a separate comment letting me know you did. (1 entry)

5. Tweet about this giveaway (@clemsonjenn) and leave a separate comment letting me know you did. (1 entry)

I will pick a winner on Friday!

Bird Flu

2011-08-26T07:56:00.003-12:00

Y'all.

This is, um. Wow.

Last week I registered the minis for soccer. Barf. I'm notsomuch a fan of "the sports". Or the outdoors. Or the elements. Or the schlepping of equipment and gear to and from the field. I don't enjoy the parents yelling and getting all worked up. I hate the hot, depise the cold and God help me if it's raining.

Some of the games start really early and I have to bring my Starbucks and my chair and my lipgloss and well, it's just exhausting. Plus, there is a contingent of parents who actually WATCH the game instead of gossiping with me and that's just plain disconcerting.

Not to mention that it's all "couple-y". You know, Saturday morning, couples all cozy with their blankets and matching chairs and here I am playing zone defense with 2 kids all myself. Barf.

In fact, the last time I remember enjoying a soccer game, was in 1982...in this photo below. My dad was my Coach and I was 7. My mom rocked my pigtails and let's be honest, it's really all about the hair and a rocking uniform color. Am I right? Kelly green EUYSA vneck and white shorts? Yes freaking please! Kelly green knee high socks with a white fold down top? *swoon* Please also note that I have the exact same hair now, minus the bangs, and I wore pigtails yesterday. Thankyouverymuch.

Sooo...Fast forward.

Guess who is coaching Ryan's U14 (that's ages 10, 11, 12 and 13) co-ed soccer team this season?

Wait for it...

ME.

No, you did not just have a small stroke. Me. The league is short on coaches so... yeah. I know. You're processing. Me too. It's a lot of information. Sit down. Get a drink if you need to. I certainly did.

I found out 3 days ago. It was a bit shocking. But I've managed to work through some of that initial panic. I got a book. I made some calls. I did some internet research. It's going to be just fine. I will rock a Barbie flipped ponytail (with a grosgrain bow of course) and I will power through it. I will hide my fear and embarrassment I will sacrifice for my child. He needs me to do this and so I will. What's the worst thing that can happen? I mean I have to wear a uniform shirt that likely says "COACH" on the back, but I mean ... oh NO...

Oh freaking YES.

Guess what ugly arse horrible color our team is?

Gamecock freaking GARNET. A small (huge) part of me died when I saw that. Garnet. Really? There are an infinite number of colors that I would be happy to wear. There is ONE color I don't wear. Ever. For any reason. And that color is Gamecock Garnet.

And we are the Garnet Cyclones. WTF.

I called my Dad. We determined that I am going to have to wear something pink under that jersey AT ALL TIMES. Because frankly, if that color touches my lily white skin?

I may die of bird flu.

The Things We Do

2011-08-22T00:23:00.005-12:00

Ahhhh! Hear that? It's the sound of silence. At least from 7a-330p. The minis started school last Monday. They returned to the same Catholic school we moved them to last year and so far, so good. Ryan has to work on talking in class (shocking, I know, considering who his Mama is, hee hee) but will sail through academically. Assuming he can shut his trap. But let's be totally honest, I haven't really learned to shut mine and I'm 36.

Jack. Sweet, earnest Jack. He busted his little hump this summer with hours and hours of tutoring and school work at home and at Granny Camp. He struggles with reading and all that comes with that. Of course, throw in the added complication of 3rd grade requiring cursive handwriting and it's going to be a heck of a year for him. We spent an hour on Sunday working on the upcoming week's spelling words and reading story. It's a full time job for both of us. My hope is that one day it will click and things will get easier. In the meantime, I'm employing every strategy I know of.

Which is not to say that I am a good teacher. I am a horrible teacher. HORRIBLE. My mother? Fabulous teacher. Coach? Great teacher. Me? Notsomuch.

So he's trying. I'm trying.

We're using the hell out of some flashcards, window markers, dry erase boards, index cards, magnetic letters, practice sheets and migraine meds and Skinnygirl Margarita. Ok, the last 2 are for me. We are going to be passing the soccer ball back and forth spelling p-e-r-s-u-a-d-e-d this afternoon. Puke.

But I love him. I would do anything for that little boy.

Even play sports.

BFFs

2011-08-18T09:46:00.002-12:00

So I have these 2 friends. Best friends.

Ridiculously intelligent. One is an engineer and an attorney. Oh, and she's currently studying to become an RN. Since being those other things wasn't awesome enough. The other one is a professor. As in at a college.

So when these 2 smarties talk? I listen.

Recently (read: for the last 18 years) they have been listening to me bitch and whine about various and sundry piles of crap. Recently that pile has been larger than normal, yet they are still listening, and imparting wisdom.

Mostly because they don't have much choice. I've got those broads on speed dial.

Pants

2011-08-11T08:17:00.002-12:00

"No one is going to buy a house from you today Mama.

Not if you wear PANTS!"

-Jack, age 8

Frrrrreeezing

2011-08-10T09:04:00.002-12:00

Remember when it was so cold that snow was up to our knees? When we were bundled up in puffy coats and vest and scarves. Jeans and leather boots and chunky sweaters. Brrrr.

Extra hot skinny vanilla lattes and we could see our breath it was so chilly outside?

Me freaking neither.

Gamechanger

2011-08-03T09:32:00.002-12:00

The children have been home for 24 hours and well, it's a real gamechanger.

Dear Lord, I am already exhausted. It's true that you can't stock up on sleep. Heaven knows all I did for the past 4 weeks was sleep and work and lie around like the Princess I was meant to be. Coach and I ended Granny Camp 2011 with several days in the mountains in a cabin in the treetops where we ate fried Oreos and slept. (Tangentially we attended a Catholic church that was so mountain-arse backward that we might be a smidge Baptist. I even heard a banjo coming from the choir loft...)

This morning 8 year old Jack made me eggs for breakfat. By himself. He instructed me to "Slice the strawberries Mama and then sit down." Shortly thereafter, they launched a full force attack and required my attention and action all freaking day.

Mama? Is tired.

So Coach? Is taking them to the pool.

The Boys Are Back

2011-08-02T14:12:00.002-12:00

I took a heck of a blogging break while the boys were at Granny Camp. In fact I took a heck of a break from real life. I picked them up from the airport today though...so back to reality.

And back to blogging.

Missed you.

Pinky swear!

CutiePaTuTu

2011-07-13T13:45:00.003-12:00

This darling package recently arrived on my doorstep and I couldn't wait to share it with you! I have been chatting with Amanda forever on Twitter, and I am so excited to share her line with you!

Cutie Pa Tutus makes tutus (and super hero capes for our little boy minis!) but my favorite is her Team Spiritwear line...especially the CLEMSON tee tu! Paired with the Poofy PomPom Magic Wand and a Pixie Tail Pony-o and you will have the cutest little one at the next tailgate!

*** 30% off with code clemsonjenn2011***

So Many Things

2011-07-11T12:28:00.002-12:00

There are so many things I need to post. Pictures from my trip to Vail. The minis' have left for Granny Camp and I am taking full advantage of the time.

But for now, I will tell you this.

We were absolutely certain Coach wasn't going to have a seizure yesterday.

Since he accidentally took my seizure meds.

Boys are stupid. The end.

Amethyst Addict or Child Services

2011-06-27T08:10:00.004-12:00

This morning the minis and I were having quite a big time doing science projects. Before you get all eye roll-y and think I'm trying to be a show off Mama, let me clarify. I am leaving for a 4 day girls' trip to Vail on Wednesday (seriously, my friends spoil me rotten) and the minis leave for Granny Camp on July 7 for a month. So needless to say, I am filling just a few days with activities.

After we filled latex balloons with baking soda and vinegar, tied them shut and watched them expand and explode...fun times...Jack had another idea. He really wanted to open and start a crystal growing kit that I had been saving for a day just like today. I agreed after making sure we had all the paraphernalia required. Damn right those kits never come with all the things you need and you don't know that until after you've promised to do it.

We spread all the stuff out on the table and the boys decided to grow amethyst crystals, because "they are mostly Clemson purple". Um, well duh.

Except, 8 year old Jack can't really say "Am-e-thyst". It's a tongue twister even for an adult who's had nothing to drink but 2 lattes and a TAB.

So when he started referring to the experiment as making "meth crystals" I was not surprised. I was however laughing hysterically on the inside. I didn't want to laugh and make a big deal about it, because it was early in the day and even the Nancy Reagan in me didn't feel like having a Just Say NO! to drugs conversation. I bit a hole in my cheek trying not to laugh. He was so earnest.

So I let him run with it.

He proceeded to ask me a million questions about the "meth crystals" he was growing. Was the "meth" expensive? Why did we have to cook the "meth" on the stove? (there was a step that involved boiling water and adding some chemical in a saucepan) Would "meth" crystals blow up if we let them cook too long? Can you find "meth" in the ground?

Needless to say, I can't wait until he goes to the country club up North with my parents next month and someone asks him about his summer...

And he tells them his Mama in Georgia taught him how to "cook meth" and keeps it on the windowsill next to the little green plants.

The Planner

2011-06-20T03:07:00.006-12:00

If you have been reading this blog for any length of time, you know that I am a planner. I love to be organized, because if it is written down I don't have to remember it! So I was thrilled when I was approached by Tiny Prints to check out the new collection of planners and notepads by Erin Condren! It arrived and the cover alone had me swooning, heavy lamination...my all time favorite. Forgive the strategic placement of my Le Pen over the front of the planner, I had to cover my last name. Oh, yes, the planner is that awesome and you can personalize it with your name, monogram etc. I love the nautical colors, this one is called Taffy Stripe and comes in other color combos too.

Inside the planner is this hilarious quotation from Ferris Bueller's Day Off! I love it! The font and the colors are TDF. The stock of the paper is thick and just shiny enough. You can write on the pages with ballpoint of course, but also with pencil or Sharpie. Heaven knows I dove right in a filled mine up. July is FULL of Granny Camp, the minis leave July 7!

Further back in the planner are Monthly pages. The planner starts in the month that you order it, (unless you request otherwise). Behind those monthly pages are blank pages, lined paged and pockets slots. Also included are several sheets of shipping labels, appointment stickers, etc. In the very back there is a place to adhere pads of personalized paper. I received 2 pads of matching Jenn paper that sticks right in the back. The planner is spiral, but these pads in the back can be replaced throughout the year as needed.

I love the planner, and I have had just about every different kind of planner. 3 rings, Franklin Planners, MomAgendas, Lilly planners, you name it.

This one is pretty perfect!

Clemson Love!

2011-06-13T05:40:00.004-12:00

The canvas!

This comes as a canvas and a magnet!

I stopped by Glory Haus today to pick up these lovelies! Take note of the family in the frame...recognize us? hee hee I love the Victory Haus line and was so happy to be photographed as the family in the Clemson frame. The minis and I sported shirts from Tigertown Graphics and Heaven knows we LOVE our Tigers! The canvas is my favorite, the artist at Glory Haus took all of our suggestions about what it really takes to be a Clemson Tiger and incorporated all of them into the canvas. There is also a tiny version of the How To art as a magnet! Clearly, that had to make it's way to my fridge!

(see? it does pay to have an old school magnetic fridge, lol)

Cooler

2011-06-12T07:59:00.002-12:00

Dear Coach,

I love you. With all of my heart. I am happy to get up at crack thirty on the weekends to make you an enormous cooler of food to take recruiting.

When you leave that cooler at home, I still love you. With all of my heart.

But, I want to kick you in the junk.

Love and kisses,
Clemsongirl

Atlanta History Center

2011-06-10T08:05:00.003-12:00

Was lucky enough to be guests today at the Atlanta History Center with the minis! We had a fantastic day. I had no idea how large the AHC is, and we explored just about every acre!

We loved the Smith farm and Ryan especially enjoyed the Quarry Garden. I forget sometimes how gorgeous Georgia really is, and this was a great reminder. I took over 100 pictures!

We had a fantastic tour guide, Marvin, who took special care to include the minis.

Inside, the minis loved the Bobby Jones golf exhibit and I was drooling over the Gone With the Wind manuscript and letters from Margaret Mitchell. They were a hoot to read, she was an opinionated Catholic! We made a quick stop into the Coca-Cola Cafe before checking out the other exhibits. The minis couldn't believe the Olympic Games area with the floor being made of the basketball court from the 1996 games in Atlanta. They asked when we could come back, and Jack wonders if they decorate the Smith house for Christmas!

It's official. I kind of love Atlanta.

Prettiest Girl in School

2011-06-07T02:44:00.002-12:00

In October of my 6th grade year, we moved to Suburban Chicago. Junior High (as it's called in the North) was already in full swing and I was the new girl. GACK.

Never one to disappoint in the clothing category, I arrived on my first day decked out in what can only be described as well, preppy. Grass green wool skirt, grass green cableknit sweater and a white popped collar underneath. Sam and Libby bow-toed flats completed what I thought was a darling outfit.

Except EVERY OTHER GIRL IN THE ENTIRE SCHOOL was wearing pegged jeans and colored Converse sneakers. Oops. Outfit: FAIL. (This was also the day that I had no idea how to do my locker combination and I had to beg a boy in the hallway to do it for me. That boy turned out to be my high school boyfriend, but I digress.)

That first day I met my friend who I have always referred to as "The Prettiest Girl in School". If you went to Haines, or STC HS, you know her initials as KP. Just saying. She was, and is beautiful.

We grew up, went to college and got married. She to a college athlete and me to a college Coach. We both had 2 boys, the same ages. We both became Realtors.

And then.

This week The Prettiest Girl in School announced that she is pregnant with baby #3.

A GIRL! *insert green with envy font*

A baby girl who is certain to grow up to be the Class of 2029's Prettiest Girl in School.

Punch

2011-06-06T10:53:00.005-12:00

At the beginning of last week, I got stung by a wasp or some other such nastified insect. ON MY FOREHEAD. It hurt and I assure you that I cried. I cried more when I saw my forehead in the mirror as it swelled up to a huge goose egg. Ridiculous.

Fast forward for the next 5 days, me icing and taking Benadryl. Each day the swelling went down, but it was still not cute.

Saturday, I finally extracted the stinger. The relief was amazing. Today, it's almost completely flat, yet still pink and angry looking.

I met Coach at the door (I always do) when he got home tonight with a kiss.

The first words out of his mouth:

"You still look like you got punched in the face."

Delightful honey. Now I'd like to punch HIM in the face.

Religious Experience

2011-06-05T08:37:00.001-12:00

You know what God created in the first 7 days.

But all good Southern sorority girls know what happened on the 8th day...

You're welcome.

Surprise Party Planning

2011-06-02T03:41:00.004-12:00

I was hired a few weeks ago to plan a surprise party for a client's fiance. The event was last night, at a Lebanese restaurant in Decatur, GA called Mezza. This was my gift to the guest of honor, which was framed art. I had to infuse my love of polka dots and orange with the theme!

Hard to tell from a picture, but the tables in the lounge are super low and the benches and rattan seats were very cool.

Close up of the flowers, I used a scallop punch and Tempus Sans font (seemed middle eastern to me!) for her "monogram". Not a traditional monogram, but made them more personal.

The bar was very cool, with stained glass cut outs on the front!

More pictures of the lounge, called the Dar.

The menu card. Of course I had to make it orange!

Ummmm... hooka?

All in all it was a success! I think the client was happy and the guest of honor friended me on Facebook, so that's a good sign...

Now I want to plan her engagement party!

Oh Jack

2011-05-31T06:38:00.002-12:00

Today I began the "structured" days of summer. My children don't do well with no structure, and after 3 days of hanging out with no agenda, they gently reminded me of that. Reminded me by acting like total turkeys.

So today, we have a game plan. A loose plan for the day. Ok, that's a total lie. We have a typed itinerary broken down my hour and an accompanying binder with To Do lists. 30 minutes this morning of school work, Jack needs extra reading help and Ryan insists that he is struggling with high number multiplication/division facts. Yes, he's a total geek, like his mama.

After school work and supervision of the dishwasher repairman, we headed out for eleventy billion errands. Bank, return a defective art kit, stop at office supply store for more laminating (delicious laminating is my new obsession), Target run, get a few items for a surprise party I am planning for a client, give the monogrammed minivan a spa treatment and pick up photos.

Last stop was picking up the photos. I had them uploaded this morning to Walmart.

Run into the the photo counter. Of course, said photos are not there. Can't find my order "in the system" despite an email confirmation and a text stating that they are ready. I tell the employee I will resend the order tonight. Annoy-ing, and you get what you pay for.

Just as we are walking away, Jack looks at the employee and says,

"This store is totally bootleg."

Yep. I'm raising myself.

AWesome Week

2011-05-27T03:38:00.002-12:00

When I started this blog, the minis were 3 and 5 years old. Now they are officially 3rd and 5th graders! That seems crazy to me. Where did the years go?!

Surprised the minis this morning (let's be honest, are they REALLY surprised by the breakfast tables anymore?) with an AWesome end of school year breakfast table. A&W root beer and popsicles. I drove them through Dunkin Donuts on the way to school, and no lie, they chose egg and cheese wraps. I guess they decided protein trumped sugar.

(The case of TAB on the window sill is duly noted.)

Dollar Spot trophy, which honestly should say Mom of the Year. hee hee Orange plates and straws. I had intentions of doing brown and orange balloons but couldn't manage that.

The end of the school year also means Memorial Day weekend. I want the minis to truly understand what Memorial Day is, and that is more than bbqs and swimming. So I "pinwheel pimped" out the mantle with red, white and blue decorations.

The poker chips in the glass jar belong to Jack. He was willing to let me "borrow" them, until he and Ryan want to play poker.

Hope you have a great weekend, and celebrate! *please note, these decorations will be making an encore for 4 July...unless I simply leave them up until then!*

Crazy All Over...Clemson

2011-05-24T04:49:00.001-12:00

Crazy All Over is the winner of the Clemson Girl shirt, if you'll kindly email me your info and mailing address I will get Maggie to send you your cutie pie shirt!

GO TIGERS!

Giveaway Reminder!

2011-05-23T08:17:00.002-12:00

Last day to enter the Clemson Girl tshirt giveaway, I am so so thankful for all the emails regarding donations to the All In Foundation! Especially from you non-Clemson Tigers. WOW!!!

Leave a comment on the post below this one to enter, I will pick a winner in the morning!

Smooches!
Clemsongirl

ClemsonGirl Shirt Giveaway!

2011-05-18T08:11:00.013-12:00

You might be a Clemson Girl if...you WIN this shirt!!!

The links on this blog and the lint trap in my dryer have always been orange...

My darling friend Maggie, owner of Tickled Orange in Downtown Clemson and her (hottie) husband Chris, owner of Tiger Town Graphics have just introduced this new Top 10 Clemson Girl shirt. A portion of the proceeds will benefit Dabo's ALL IN Foundation. The shirt is available online or in either store. The minis insist that I tell you to also get some Clemson silly bands. Really? How incredibly amazing are my friends. I am so very lucky!!

I'm lucky enough to be giving away one of these shirts to one of my readers!

Here are the rules, you can do any or all of them!

Enter once by just leaving a comment!

LEAVE A SEPARATE COMMENT FOR EACH ONE YOU DO!

1. Follow this blog via email for one entry. Box is in the top right corner.

2. "Like" Tickled Orange on Facebook for one entry.

3. Make a donation OF ANY AMOUNT to Dabo's ALL IN Foundation for 3 entries.

4. Tweet about the giveaway for one entry (I'm @clemsonjenn)

5. Blog about the giveaway for 2 entries.

For the record? My ringtone is absolutely Tiger Rag, my dog's name is Bowman, my oldest child is named after the Catholic Church in Clemson,

and without question, orange and purple are the perfect color combination. Love my Tigers!

Go TIGERS!

Laminate This

2011-05-16T23:37:00.003-12:00

It seems that I have organization on the brain, or perhaps waterproofing.

I dreamt last night about laminating. I think it stemmed from a late night epiphany I had regarding a Memorial Day banner I printed. I was thinking it was going to be a one time use because it would be a hot mess next year...unless I laminated it. Oooh, the possibilities.

***insert dream sequence font***

So my dream consisted of me at Office Max with all of my items to be laminated spread out on their copy center counter. I started with the banner, then a real-life manners list I have on the fridge. Next it was the summer camp calendar, a phone list, and then a disturbing list of my clothing sizes. I have no idea why one would laminate such a thing, but I was positively giddy about it in REM.

Next I laminated my Christmas card list, God forbid anyone move, a babysitter checklist (ha! like I ever manage to get a babysitter...where would I go, Office Max? hahahaha) and oddly enough a list of golf courses and driving ranges in Atlanta. I rounded out the order with a monthly grocery list, the children's Granny Camp itinerary (A-MEN!) and a Mass schedule.

Last, but not least, I had a life size cutout of Coach which I was delighted to have laminated. I supposed I wanted to waterproof him in case I took him swimming. Really? Really.

While I truly appreciate, ok, am mildly orgasmic, about the idea of laminating, my dream state took it a smidge too far.

Or did it?

Gotta run, off to Office Max, the pool opens next weekend.

2 Unrelated Thoughts

2011-05-15T08:07:00.004-12:00

Today in Mass I was asking for forgiveness for my horrible attitude and intense dislike (read: borderline hatred) toward Ryan's baseball coach. He absolutely ruined the season for Ryan and I truly think he is a bad person. I am stuck with these thoughts in my head and need to get past it. Ryan's season is over and we need to move on. I'm not the Jackass Whisperer, and despite my over confidence, I can't fix this man. I have never seen him outside of the baseball park and will likely never see him again. Just as I was tearing up and praising my waterproof mascara choice today, asking for the grace to move on, he walks right past me to take Communion with his family. I had no idea he attended our church, nor that he was Catholic. I was stunned. God sent me a hell of a message, no pun intended today. I'm working on it. Memo received.

***

It needs to be summer so we can get off the hamster wheel. I know I will be complaining soon enough about being super hot and sunburned, but truly? 10 more days of school. 10 more days of getting up at crack thirty. 10 more sets of lunch boxes to fill. 10 more sets of uniforms and wash and iron. Less than 10 more days of homework, although the summer is full of school work to ensure they are ready for the fall. Jack's struggles with reading, which I blogged about in the early fall continue. So there's more work in that area to be done. But, 10 more times in car pool line.

10 more. 10 more. 10 more.

***

Countdown to Summer

2011-05-13T05:11:00.003-12:00

The minis' last day of school is May 27, so yesterday we started our Countdown to Summer!

I hung this little note on the mirror in the dining room.

I stocked up on a bunch of little treasures and treats. (click the picture to make it bigger) Some of them I bought 2 of each, some of them they have to share. Then I wrapped them up and numbered them 12 to 1...counting down to the last day of school. Dollar Tree, Michaels/Target Dollar Spots and Easter clearance. Basically the same kind of things I put in the Treasure Box when we travel (every 30-60 minutes they behave in the car, they get a treasure). Wrapping them makes it more exciting and special. Doesn't really matter what the items are.

The minis actually really like school, but summer is tons of fun too!

It's possible that I may need to create a Granny Camp Countdown for me! Lip gloss, magazines...hmmmm

Rainbow Cakes

2011-05-11T08:32:00.000-12:00

So, everyone has seen the new trend of making Mason Jar Cakes. You bake and serve the cake in the mason jar, it's so cute! (My friend Lisa and I were also talking about serving tacos and bbq/bean/slaw in them for a party. Props on the cuteness!)

I made these rainbow cakes for Sunday, which was also my Dad's birthday. I will spare you the details of the multiple (3!) trial runs, and tell you, only fill the jar up half way with batter!

Needless to say, the minis and I had fun making them, and of course, I forgot to take a picture of them when we served them with whipped cream on top and rainbow (duh) sprinkles.

Scapular Mass

2011-05-11T04:29:00.000-12:00

Jackson made his First Holy Communion.

My work here is done.

Well, almost.

Ready?

2011-05-10T09:02:00.001-12:00

Hello Sweets.

Add another line to the To Do list. Ok, another page.

It's the home stretch ... 13 more days of school.

I'm getting situated.

And putting on my armor.

Cinco de Breakfast

2011-05-04T23:40:00.003-12:00

Hola! We celebrated Cinco de Mayo this morning with breakfast burritos and Skippyjon Jones.

If you don't already know and love the Skippyjon Jones books, he is a Siamese cat who thinks he is a Chihuahua. His ears are to "beeg" for his head and he speaks with the most fabulous

Spanish accent. It's one of our favorites and perfect for Cinco de Mayo...

or Cinco de Breakfast!

Situation in a Venti Cup

2011-05-03T14:05:00.006-12:00

Lord know this girl loves her Starbucks. Giving it up for Lent was without question one of the top 4 dumbest things I ever did (um, hells no I am not telling you the top 3). So I have been making up for lost time lately and indulging...early and often.

Today I was in Small Town way North of Atlanta on the hunt for blessed cordovan colored penny loafers (um, yes the same penny loafers that tipped the apple cart of anxiety on Sunday, but I digresss) and drove through the Starbucks there.

I ordered an Iced Triple Grande Skinny Vanilla Latte in a Venti cup. Natch. This sounds very complicated to anyone who isn't a Starbucks fan, but I assure you it's quite simple. It's on the real menu, not some fancy whatnot I concocted.

In any case, I ordered my drink and pulled up to the window, anxiously awaiting my Goodness in a Venti Cup.

Ummmmm.

The barista who was working the drive-thru was a smidge country. Ok, truth be told, she was totally country and not even a little bit rock and roll. She was actually not even wearing an apron, but a random black cable knit sweater. Which was odd, because it was 80 dang degrees.

She handed me what I can only describe to you as a "Situation in a Venti Cup". It was an iced Situation, so points for that. However, I'm not exactly sure what shore this Situation was from. It looked to be an upside down caramel macchiato with an entire bottle of caramel and chocolate syrup dripping down the inside. On top of the "Situation in a Venti Cup" was a whole mess of whip with...wait for it...coconut shavings on the top. Whisky Tango Foxtrot?! Who on God's Earth hates themself enough to drink that?

I smiled and said, "Maybe that's the next car's order? I had an SVL."

"No. You didn't. " She said. Ruh-roh... "THIS is your drink. THIS is what you ordered. THIS is what I called back to you."

Back it on up sister friend. "No, that's not my order. I had an SVL. I don't even know what that Situation is. If you had called that back to me I would have laughed hysterically and corrected you."

So she pulled a face and got me an SVL. Which I thorougly enjoyed, despite that fact that I am certain she spit in it.

Circle the Wagons

2011-05-03T04:29:00.002-12:00

I love you girlies (guys)! You really know how to circle the wagons, and that's just what I needed yesterday. I have no idea how to embed this video clip into my blog, and I'm quite busy looking for penny loafers.

So, here's a funny for you. Since I wear a ponytail, and I'm selective. And? The back of your head is ridiculous.

Enjoy! Smooches!

http://youtu.be/kTFZyl7hfBw

What To Tell Your Children

2011-05-01T23:48:00.005-12:00

I'm not a psychologist, I'm not a teacher and I am surely not a political pundit. Take this post at face value.

I'm a Mama. A Mama who knew immediately last night that I had some explaining to do to my children about the killing of Osama Bin Laden. My mind raced trying to come up with the words I would use to explain to Ryan, 10 and Jack, 8.

On September 11, 2001 Ryan was not quite 6 months old and Jack was still a dream. But that evening, I wrote my children a letter. I explained to them what happen, using words that I imagined children could understand. There are tears on that letter, and, like on this blog, I didn't edit my feelings.

In 2003, my mother bought 2 children's books for the the minis which we have read repeatedly and discussed ad nauseum. I have included the links below if you're interested.

The first one is, The Little Chapel That Stood. It is the story of St. Paul Chapel which is situated between the Twin Towers. It not only survived 9/11, but served as a comfort and base for those serving in the days that followed.

The second book is, September 12: We Knew Everything Would Be Alright. It is written mostly by 1st graders, with art work that addresses the simple comforts and daily routines following 9/11. It is a hopeful book that tells children that even after bad things happen, things will be ok.

I pulled those books out, re-read them and made some notes. I sat the minis down this morning and used the words that I thought would be helpful to them.

I said,

"I know you remember what happened on September 11 with the airplanes and the Towers. Ten years ago many, many people on our country were killed. Some of them were normal people just going to work. A lot of them were firefighters, EMT, and police officers. There was a man who was the boss of the terrible group of people called Al Quaeda. They are terrorists. They hate America. They hate us.

When that happened, President Bush told the American people that we would find that man, named Osama Bin Laden. For 10 years, our soldiers have been looking for him. He has been hiding. Last week, they told the new President, who is the head of the military, that they were pretty sure they knew where he was. President Obama gave them permission to go there, and to kill him. Yesterday they found him. They shot him with a gun and he is dead.

I need you to listen very carefully boys. Are you listening to me? Look at my eyes and listen.

That will never happen to you. That happened to a very horrible man who did horrible things. Your Daddy and I will keep you safe, and so will the soldiers that protect you. Do you understand? That happened very far away from us. You would have to take a plane to get there. Not here. Not close to our house or your school.

I know it's confusing and you have lots of questions. I will answer all of those questions. When you get to school today, people are going to be talking about this. Many of your friends may say some really stupid things about this. I need you to understand that talking like that is not ok.

If you hear people saying inappropriate things, this is what I want you to say.

"I am glad our soldiers are keeping me safe." Just like we say whenever we see a soldier. We shake their hands and say "Thank you for keeping me safe." None of those soldiers were hurt yesterday.

When you get home, you can tell me all of the things that your friends were saying at school. It's absolutely ok to repeat all of those things to me and to Daddy. It is not ok to repeat them to anyone else.

This is a big deal. My stomach hurts, and maybe yours does too. Tell me what questions you have. I don't know everything but I will help you figure it out."

Jack had some questions about guns and the Ten Commandments. I used this opportunity to talk to them about the Catholic Church's stance on respect for human life and legitimate defense. In little people words of course.

When I pick the minis up from school, I am prepared for more discussion and questions. I am prepared to help them navigate the comments and thoughts of their friends. I expect that Sister Mary Jacinta may have prayed with them.

These might not be the right words for your children. Maybe they are older, or younger or more scared. I don't know if these are the words I should have used. I do know that we need to talk to them. To ensure them they we are doing everything we can to keep them safe.

God Bless America. God Bless Our Children.

Crazy (Honest) Train

2011-05-01T12:21:00.004-12:00

**It's my blog and I will vent if I want to**

A ba-billion years ago when I started blogging, back before it was cool, I promised you one thing; honesty. I promised you that I wouldn't sugar coat and bs you. I told you from the get-go that you'd either "love me or hate me" but you'd "laugh either way". I removed the "followers" count from the blog forever ago, because that's not what this blog was meant to be. It doesn't matter if I have 3000 or a million followers. What matters is that I write in a way that is honest and hopefully entertaining. I have run the scope here, from elated, to depressed and every emotion in between. Every single day I get emails from you telling me you appreciate the honesty.

So, here you go. More honesty.

I had a meltdown today in Macy's. An anxiety attack of epic proportions. It was lovely for everyone involved, including Coach and the minis. Upset stomach, shallow breathing, sweating, the usual. We were looking for several things for Jack's First Holy Communion and that combined with my general craziness was just too much. I hate shopping for specific things on a deadline. Makes me heart race and thereby I bite the head off of everyone in sight. If you know anything about anxiety, you know that it really has nothing to do with the actual circumstances surrounding the attack. Usually looking back, it's hard to see why that event in fact triggered it. So, don't misunderstand me, it wasn't about size 3 pennyloafers. Which, tangentially are a biotch to find.

We headed home, and a few episodes of DC Cupcakes and 84,000 migraine meds later, I was back to normal. Normal being just left of center and mildly (read: completely certifiably) nuts.

Someone recently said I don't seem happy and that everyone deserves to be happy. You know, I'm not sure most people are "happy" in the broad sense of the word. I love my family, but life? It's freaking hard. There are not enough hours in the day, there's too much month at the end of the money and that's alot to manage. I'm rounder than I'd like to be and about 4 inches shorter than I'd prefer. C'est la vie.

A lot of people, especially those that blog, pretend like life is perfect. Their house looks like a Pottery Barn catalog and their children stepped out of a JCrew ad. Heaven forbid if you're not wearing Lilly and carrying a new LV. Well, you know what? That's the exception to the rule. Most of us are just trying to make it work. Many of us are on vacation only because our parents are generous enough to make that happen (thanks mom and dad). Many of us have a car payment ($326.04 until November 2012 thankyouverymuch).

Most of us cut our own lawn, let the gas tank get down to E, clean our own commode and wear cheap shoes from Target. Many of us bust our arses every single day and sometimes, just sometimes feel like we are never, ever going to get ahead.

At least I do.

Regal

2011-04-29T00:16:00.005-12:00

I can't bring myself to write a proper post on this morning's wedding, so I am simply posting my Tweets! In order, starting when I woke up and ending with "the kiss(es)".

I imagine Kate and Pippa jumping on beds in the hotel saying, "I'm getting married Today!!!" #exactlywhatidid

If I see RAF on the caller ID, don't worry, I'm ready to travel.

I just don't think she will go with McQueen. Frankly, I'd not be shocked if she did something totes bananas and went Top Shop. Lol

Elton in tails. Meh

Do you think Kate and Pippa and high fiving right about now?! "We DID it Love! We are a PrinCESS!"

Coach wanted to vomit profusely on our wedding day. Think Wills is doing the same?

"Kate, he showed" Deep breaths.

I'm going to insist that the minis call me "Mum" today. #itwillhappen

In addition to calling me Mum, I'm going to make the little buggers curtsy to me. #ohitishappening

Camilla - Schamilla. I just can't get on board with her. #notsorry

Ummm, I spy the wicked stepsisters from Cinderella. #bahahaha

Camilla forgot her bag of oats. #hopeshedoesntgethungry

If your horoscope tweet clogs up my Twitter feed this morning, I'm unfollowing you and smacking you with a Union Jack. #dude

Angela Kelly does Mountain Dew for the Queen. #nothanks #jaundice

Kate's hair is DOWN?! Be still my heart. #coachaskedmetowearminedownalso

Pippa hit the spray tan, eh?

You'd think Sir Elton would know the lyrics w/o the book. #justsaying. #aintlionking

Anyone else envisioning a hell of a Glee episode?!

Feast Day of St. Catherine. I toooolllld you!!!

Some of those choir boys could use a little product. #nothingwrongwithLegohair #itISawedding

Raise your hand if you have a new girl crush on Pippa and her Mystic tan.

Holy crap! I swear that was *almost* a Bend and Snap! #gopippa

Do you think Kate just changed her FB relationship status to "freaking married"?!

Today's Groupon should be a diet program. #pippaenvokeseatingdisordersacrosstheglobe

Do you think they will Griswold the moment and say, "Big Ben, Parliment" #hahaha

Kate just texted Pippa, "you can totally wear that dress again".

"Sheesh. Already with the baby questions". Who's Waity Katie NOW?! #impatient #shewillbedarlingpreggers

That kiss was lame sauce. Major lame sauce.

The 2nd kiss was slightly redeeming. #cherrybomblipgloss

Logging off, and going to poach some eggs. Pippa gave me a serious body image issue this morning.

CHEERIO!

Safe and Sound

2011-04-28T07:59:00.002-12:00

We in Metro Atlanta are safe and sound today, although we can't say the same for our neighbors and friends in Floyd County, Alabama and Tennesee.

We love you and we are thinking of you.

Easter Pics

2011-04-26T00:19:00.004-12:00

We made it back from Chicago last night at 6p, and we were tempted to hop back on the 645p flight back to Midway. Alas, I am working on re-entry today, so am leaving you with pictures until I have time to really post. Happy Easter!

Think this is the last year I can convince them to wear bunny ears for a picture?

I thinketh notsomuch.

Cute kids. Get it? Goats...kids...

My mom and I at Easter brunch. I totally need that egg tree!

Ryan requested a jester hat from the balloon guy. Ummm, duh.

Jack's note for the Easter Bunny; "EB, the lettuce is for you..." I die of the cuteness.

Ignore the crazy hair, it was 40 and raining. Focus please on the baby bunny!

Cutest thing ever.

The actual bunny was slightly less cute.

My Kind of Town

2011-04-22T13:03:00.001-12:00

The minis and I are in Chicago for Easter break.

It's disgusting weather. Like 40 and raining. Like freaking autumn.

Other than that, it's fabulous.

Meds

2011-04-19T09:09:00.002-12:00

When I was about 14, I started getting what we thought was car sickness combined with terrible headaches. Nausea, vomiting, the whole 9. Many years later, I learned that I was experiencing migraines and subsequent rebound migraines. Those migraines are associated with hormones, so although there are several preventative meds on the market, none of them really worked for me.

Through extensive trial and error and a fantastic neurologist, I was finally able to treat the migraines with a cocktail of meds. I still get about 6 a month, but that's significantly better than before!

The primary ingredient of those meds has been taken off the market. I learned today that I am back to square one. Making an appointment to see a different neurologist (mine moved, how convenient!) and try a new class of drugs. I currently have a bottle of NOTHING to treat them. New drug, which I have no experience with is being called in now. Pow wow between the Doc, the Pharmacist and me; lots of head shaking and shoulder patting. Lots of tears. Son of a biscuit.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.

Coffee Bitch

2011-04-18T03:13:00.004-12:00

As you know I gave up Diet Whateversonsale and Starbucks for Lent. That was a tremendously horrible idea and I assure you I will never, ever do that again. I realized about 3 days after Ash Wednesday that I was getting edgy, my migraines were more frequent and that I was starving. I am still drinking tea and coffee at home, but it's not the same. Of course, being ever Catholic, i convinced myself that I couldn't go back on my Lenten committment and so I persevered.

Bleh.

6 more days and I will be mainlining Skinny Vanilla Lattes and TAB, that's a sure thing. The minute I walk out of Easter Mass, I am hauling arse to the Starbucks and orderering a Triple Grande cup of LOVE. Maybe 2. Girl may double fist it for weeks to compensate.

I have decided that the Lord doesn't need/want me to sacrifice this way again. Instead of making me introspective and prayerful it made me crabby(er) and irritated(ing). I was forced to eat my emotions and fill the espresso and carbonation void with pasta and chocolate. It's not cute. I look busted.

Hang with me for 6 more days and then I will be back to be delightful (read: generally snarky) self. And the net 4 lbs I have gained as a result will come off.

Readiness

2011-04-15T02:43:00.004-12:00

There is a Dominican Sister who teaches in the upper school where the minis attend. Her name is Sister Veronica Ann and she runs the car line in the afternoon. I find the minivan parked close enough to where she stands so that I can talk with her a few days each week. There is something about her that makes me feel comfortable. She is funny and kind and insightful.

Last week when I was at the beach I witnessed a horrific accident involving a pedestrian who was killed. I was alone, and the minis were spared the experience. It was without question the most abhorrent thing I have ever seen and not something the human mind was meant to experience. It's difficult to close my eyes and not picture what I saw and remember what I heard. At the moment of her death and many, many times since that night, I have wondered about her and her life. About what she was talking about and thinking about just before that moment. As I called 911 I prayed fervently for her and the driver who caused the accident. It is that driver who I continue to think of.

Earlier this week I mentioned to Sister that I was having a difficult time processing what I saw and that it was having an effect of over protectiveness and increased patience on me and my children. I just can't find a place in my mind to file that experience. She took a minute to talk with me about it. Then she said, "Makes you think so much about being ready. The end could come at any moment." I nodded and then she asked me, "Are YOU ready?"

My immediate response was "No. I'm not ready." Then I started to cry. Because the question I was really answering was based on this lifetime. No, I'm not ready to leave my children and my husband. I haven't had enough time with them, or my parents, my family and my friends. Not enough days in the sunshine with my children. Not enough chances for me to celebrate with my minis over breakfast. Not enough walks with my dog. Not enough delicious meals and certainly not enough Italian cappuccinos. A million years on this Earth wouldn't be enough time with the people I love.

But that wasn't what she was asking me and I knew it. She was asking if I was ready with Him. The answer to that question is yes. He knows that I am faithful and that I know that the life after this one is so much better than we can imagine. I tell him every week how grateful I am for the many blessings in my life. For the health and happiness of my children. For a family who loves me despite my repeated idiocy. For the support of my friends without whom I would be a hot mess. I thank him for making me strong and smart and for giving me the independence to survive everyday. I also ask him repeatedly to help me stop making the mistakes I do make.

I go to Confession. I am right with Him. I am right with my family. At least today. If today He decided that it was my day to leave this Earth, I am ready. I can only hope and pray that I can say the same thing each and every day.

Are you ready?

Like a Pilgrim in a Frat House

2011-04-12T08:48:00.004-12:00

Spring is finally here in Atlanta. At least I think it is, if the pollen on my screened porch is any indication, nasty. Tomorrow I am starting an Old Fashioned Pilgrim Inspired Spring Cleaning (heretofore referred to as OFPISC) in this Frat House. I have never lived in a house as long as I have lived in this one and while I am ruthless about purging, it's time. I am starting to notice the house looking tired and when I came back from vacation it looked sad. Homeless even. *pun intended*

I am guessing the OFPISC will take me several days, and that's fine. Every shelf, every cabinet, every closet will be completely emptied and scrubbed out. I'm going to go all Little Orphan Annie and wash the walls too. The baseboards are going to be my bitch. My oven is going to sparkle. Ok, maybe not sparkle, I despise cleaning my oven. Rug beating, window washing, the whole nine.

Tonight I'm going to inventory my supplies, I know for sure I need a gallon of vinegar and 84,000 Magice Erasers. I'm online researching and adding to my cleaning plan. I've pulled out Martha Stewart's Homekeeping Handbook (this book is basically like porn to me) and I'm fired up. Nesting. Sans the pregnancy so no worries about paint fumes and noxious chemicals.

So if you see my limping through Super Target with a bottle of ibuprofen and a mop, take pity. Then go home and join me! OFPISC 2011.

Pearl Girls

2011-04-11T12:12:00.004-12:00

Jack's First Holy Communion is coming up in just a few weeks and I am focused on the most important things. What will I wear and how hot will it be? hee hee

Lucky for me, I plan to pick a dress around this beautiful necklace from The Pearl Girls. It's the Black Tie necklace, and the rosettes are made from black ribbon and the pearls are quite large! It has an extender chain so I can wear it long or short. You may have seen their things in April's issue of Southern Living! I am thinking about even re-wearing the black dress I wore to Ryan's Communion.

Check out thier site, there is certainly something for everyone and with Easter and Mother's Day coming up soon...I'm just saying!

Blogger Help

2011-04-11T00:51:00.001-12:00

I need help! I can't seem to get Blogger to format my posts. They are all running together as one long paragraph. Help!

No Ma'am!

2011-04-10T11:39:00.005-12:00

5 and 3

10 and 8

No. No ma'am. How in the WORLD did this happen?! How did they get SO BIG!?

Atlanta

2011-04-10T11:02:00.002-12:00

I'm back! The minivan is unloaded (full of sand but unloaded of luggage!) and the minis are asleep in their beds. We made it to Mass and for a Publix run. Nary a sunburn in sight. Success! We had an amazing 9 days, and we were very sad to see the vacation end. I'm off to climb Mt. Washmore and get everything ready for the week. If I could get my hands on the camera cord, I'd post some pictures, but it seems to be eluding me at the moment. How was your week?

Sephora Soapbox

2011-04-02T07:16:00.005-12:00

The minis and I left Atlanta yesterday afternoon and headed to Siesta Key, we arrived about 1am and spent the day today at the pool. But I couldn't let today pass without telling you about my morning yesterday. The BFF sent me a Sephora gift card, with a darling note to "stay pretty". I was so excited to head over there before we got on the road and pick up some little beauty treats. I walked in and of course was immediately offered assistance from a 20-something blond. I told her I was looking for Philosophy Hope in a Jar moisturizer on a recommendation from 84,000 girls on Twitter. She wanted to break down my current skincare routine. "Tell me what you're doing now. Head to toe." She cooed at me. "Umm, well, I wash my face with Noxema. I use Ponds Cold Cream to take my makeup off, Olay moisturizer. Jergens on my body. That's about it. Oh, and Queen Helene Mint Julep mask a couple of times a year." She blanched. "Oh, you're funny! Wouldn't that be hilarious if they even still made that stuff! What a hoot. You're killing me. Seriously though, what do you use?" I assured her I was deadly serious and that I was using those things. She was incredulous. She called another employee over and told her that I used Noxema in a jar. The second employee cocked her head to the side like a dog in an Elizabethan collar. "Huh? They still make that?" Yes, THEY do and it rocks. They weren't rude. They were just totally befuddled that I use drugstore products that most people remember from the 70s. For the record, I also wear Estee Lauder Rosa Rosa lipstick ... yes, they still make that too. I drink TAB. I use Noxema. I guess my 70s is showing.

The Mother of Boys

2011-04-01T00:27:00.004-12:00

Jack. Jackpot. Jack and Cheese. Action Jackson. Jackaroo. Jackchop.

The littlest of the minis. The smallest of the small ones. April 1, 2003 this little man gave me a gift I can never truly thank him for. When he came into this world, via c-section (that's how I cook babies, early, breech and sunny side up) with not a hair on his head, he made me something I never knew I would be.

His brother, 24 months earlier, made me a Mother.

But Jack.

Little earnest, helpful, introspective, problem solving Jack. He made me a Mother of Boys. A Mother of Boys. That's a whole new ball game, no pun intended. When I had the gender revealing ultrasound I wore pink. I knew it was a girl. When I was told it was another boy, admit that I sobbed. I threatened to key the ultrasound tech's car. I wish I was kidding. "Another dirt eater?!" I cried to Coach. He just laughed. Thrilled and smug. Arsehat.

The day he was born, I can not express to you how I felt. Boys. 2 gorgeous, amazing look-a-like little boys. Brothers. Perfection.

He instantly became his brother's best friend. To separate them is to cut off the limb of the other. When I am asked "Do you have children?" I smile (and roll my eyes). "Yes." I say. "I have 2 boys."

Happy Birthday to you Jackson Patrick, I adore you. I love you more than I ever knew was even possible. You are the one who made me.

A Mother of Boys.

T-Minus 1

2011-03-31T10:02:00.002-12:00

Leaving tomorrow after school for the beach. Still have not packed. So, I will not be blogging until I manage that situation.

Tip Your Hat

2011-03-29T07:35:00.006-12:00

Birthday breakfast with Preppy Paper Girl, The Hot Puerto Rican and Outlaw. They spoiled me with this killer bag too. And no, I didn't wear the hat all day. But, I wanted to. Hell, I wanted to sleep in it. Instead I wore pajamas with birthday cakes on them, but I digress.

Sitting on my dining room table is this enormous navy beach hat with a grass green monogram. It was a birthday gift from Preppy Paper Girl. I mention it not solely because it's the most darling and amazing hat that ever existed (which it is), but because it reflects the sum total of the packing I have done for my trip.

The minis and I are leaving Friday for the beach (assuming Jack agrees to travel on his actual birthday, otherwise Saturday) and I have the hat laid out. Oh, and the oil has been changed in the minivan. That's it. Nary a pair of shorts have been pulled out, nor a bottle of sunscreen or pair of flip flops. Never in the history of The Mommy Show have I wanted to see the sun more than now. Stupid Atlanta and your weather. 48 and raining is not spring. Groundhog sold us a buffet of bullshank.

Fear not, I will pull it together Clemson Girl style.

Tangentially, I will absolutely still call myself a girl, despite my 36 years. I will also refer to Coach as a boy and you will not roll your eyes or talk about me behind my pink cardi-clad back. Is that clear? Actually here's a secret. I don't much care if you talk about me. I'm not that interested in dissention, and there's no real cream filling in my Oreo of bitchiness. heehee

Birthday Wishes

2011-03-27T23:30:00.005-12:00

When I was younger, my mother would lie in bed at night and ask my father...did you lock the doors? He would dutifully reply "Yes." Then she would tell him to go downstairs and unlock them, in hopes that the gypsies would come and steal me away in the night. That was how much of a pain the arse I was. But the gypsies never came. (Tangentially, when I was a little girl people used to ask me where I got my “pretty blue eyes” and I replied earnestly, “At the liquor store.” I thought they were asking me about the “blue ice” in bags my parents bought there.)

In college, Coach and I met at Mass and he later asked some friends about me. “She’s a bitch.” they said. “She’s a snotty, stuck-up Northern bitch. Forget it Coach, she will never give you the time of day.” But he didn’t listen.

When he called my father in Belgium, where my family was living at the time, to ask his permission to marry me, I have no idea what my father told him. This is because the conversation was/is so Top Secret Private that to this day neither one of them will tell me what was said. I imagine it came with fair warning and a sigh of relief on my father’s part that I would now be “someone else’s problem.” I doubt that I will ever know the words exchanged that day, but whatever my father said, it wasn’t quite enough to scare Coach away from marrying me. I do know that today, on my 36th birthday, I’m still a smidge of a pain in the arse. I’m nothing if I’m not a teensy (huge) bit of a slightly less snotty bitch. Without question (or endless calls for information, advice and direction) I am still “my father’s problem”.

So today I celebrate them. My Mother. My Father. My Husband. For putting up with me for all or some of these past three and a half decades. For listening to the drama, the shenanigans, the woes and the half cocked ideas. For supporting me and mine. For loving me in spite of the fact that I likely continue to make the three of them completely Alice in the Rabbit Hole crazy.

I love you. The three of you.

And I thank you for loving me back.

Red Bull and Nerf Guns

2011-03-27T06:50:00.005-12:00

Red Bull. Rock Star. Monster. Sugar free of course. Energy drinks are my friend. Since I gave up Diet Whateversonsale and Starbucks for Lent, I have been dragging arse. However these magic drinks are getting me through. Look, I gave up processed foods and high fructose corn syrup 15 months ago, I don't want to know if there's something horrid in those drinks. So keep that little knowledge nugget to yourself. K? Thanks.

All I know is that they sort of burn my tongue in a good way and allow me to make it through the day. So, in caveman terms, me likey.

In other news, the minis now own every single solitary Nerf gun that exists. We had most of them until they scored Target cards at their birthday party last week and sure enough...now we have the full arsenal. Needless to say, I have declared the kitchen a "bullet-free" zone in order to preserve some sense of order in this freaking fraternity house. Of course, it's much more entertaining to have the Nerf war in their underwear. 8 and 10 year old's in boxer briefs, safety goggles and Nerf guns. I feel like it's a preview of their futures in college.

I'm off to prepare for the week, Heaven knows this girl loves a Monday...and that makes Sunday all the better. xo

BIHF

2011-03-25T03:49:00.003-12:00

Bleh. I Hate Friday. But you already knew that.

This weekend Coach is out of town (shocking, I realize) and the minis have baseball tonight and tomorrow. So I spent the morning today getting all my errands and whatnots crossed off my list. Mailed the thank you notes from the birthday party (collage photo prints with "8 is Great!" and "10 is Terrific," printed on them) sent a box of treats to my amazing friend ClemsonLocal for her birthday next week, renewed my minivan tags ... it's all very exciting. Living the minivan dream.

In order to renew my Georgia plates, I had to have my emissions tested. The man running the testing center was schooling me on the effects of emissions on the environment. He launched into a long diatribe about the air quality and how important it is to protect our environment and so on and so forth.

I listened and nodded and smiled and agreed.

While he chain smoked Marlboros.

D'oh! or Never Say Never or I Swear I'm Not a Meth Addict

2011-03-24T00:10:00.002-12:00

This morning I am mildly hungover. Not in the traditional sense, but in a "day after the party" "cupcakes and confetti" hungover kind of way.

Woke up, got the minis breakfasted (yes, that's a verb in our house) and Coach took them to school. I started a load (brag? the only load!) of dirty clothes and poured and enormous cup of coffee. I sat down at the kitchen table with the laptop and started my morning.

Feeling rather smug, I flipped through the pictures from the minis' party. (See post below, duh) They had a great time and everything went off without a hitch. I think it might have been their favorite party yet. The day ahead seemed full of possibility. House is clean. Thanks to a late night visit from my neighbors/clients, my work schedule is open for the day. No baseball tonight and Coach is actually in town. Dinner is in the fridge and I actually have a plan for it, thank God for Publix Apron Meal recipes and all the awesomeness that is associated with said meals.

Hmmm, how to spend the day? I know! I will workout, then head up to the outlets to get a few things for the upcoming beach/Disney trip! That will be perfect.

And then the phone rang.

Coach was dropping minis off at school and realized that Ryan didn't have his PE uniform. Our school is very strict and you are only allowed to drop off lunches and coats, so luckily Ryan hadn't gotten out of the car yet. No problem, I told them I would jump in the minivan and run it over. (It was clean, in the PE bag, hanging on the backpack rack. We just forgot.)

Oh frick. I'm still in my pajamas. Modest, clean pajamas, but pajamas nonetheless. No time to get dressed. I have always rolled my eyes at those moms driving carpool in pjs. I have always firmly insisted I would never do that. Never say never, and I'm not talking about Bieber. I grab my keys and PE uniform and drive to school. I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror at a red light. Lawd. My hair is super long and is piled on top of my head in what was a ponytail and is now, well, not. I have yesterday's makeup on, including delicious black mascara under my eyes. Gross. I have a smidge of lip gloss...on my chin from last night. Gack.
I wipe the errant lip gloss off and brace myself. This is not a big deal. I'm not getting out of the car, no one is going to see me. I pull up next to Coach's and sheepishly wave at Sister. I hand them the uniform, he kisses me (God Bless You Coach) and I head back home.

And then I realize.

I have no gas. Literally the light came on yesterday as I was driving home from school but I couldn't stop and fill up because the party was starting. I know Dad, fill up when you're at half a tank like you taught me. But I was super busy making glittered centerpieces! As a result of the glittering now I have NO gas. Fumes maybe. I check the magic DTE setting and see that I have zero miles to empty. Son of a biscuit.

I pull into the gas station and step out of the minivan. My intention is to swipe the debit, stick the pump in and sit in horror in my car. Of course, the dang pump's clip device that allows you to pump and let go is busted. D'oh! This is not good. I have to STAND OUT HERE AND GET GAS. Right next to the busy road where everyone can see me.

My mind is racing. I'm mortified. What are people going to think? They are going to think I'm a meth addict. Yep, that's clearly the message I'm sending. Meth addict mother of 2 pumping gas in her freaking pajamas. Looking like a street walker with yesterday's makeup and some crazy hair. My heart starts to race and I feel like I am going to throw up.

But then I realize, no one is going to think I'm a meth addict.

Because meth addicts don't wear lavender Nick and Nora bride/groom pajamas and gold jeweled flip flops.

Whew.

Wii Had a Party!

2011-03-23T13:29:00.004-12:00

Hello sweets! Today was the minis birthday party! They opted for a joint party since their birthdays are 10 days apart and we had a GameTruck come to the house. It's the huge trailer truck in the picture and inside? Boy heaven! An enormous leather sofa and flat screen tvs, Wii, XBox and PSP. Nothing preppy about that, so I had to cute it up with the decor! Lime green, silver and black. Plus glitter. Work it out boys!

I made the centerpieces from gift bags, foam bricks, dowels and pipe cleaners. The numbers were brown cardboard from Hobby Lobby and I painted and glittered the hell out of them. The table runner is actually wrapping paper, and totally genius if I do say so myself.

Even though the boys shared the party, I made sure that they felt separate. We divided the children into 2 groups and while the 2nd graders were in the truck, the 4th graders ate pizza, popcorn and cupcakes. Then they swapped. I set separate tables for them too.

The favors were silicone Wii remote covers that I found for $1 and filled with candy. The tags say "Wii are so glad you came to our party!" Cuteness!

I'm sleepy. But the party was a huge success.

Wii are going to bed!

Monofilament

2011-03-22T09:00:00.003-12:00

I'm getting ready for the minis' joint birthday party tomorrow after school, and I've been exploring parts of stores I have never been in.

I promise to post lots of pictures afterwards, but some of the things I have been buying are:

monofilament (this is a fancy word for fishing line, which BFF had to point out would be sold in the fishing section of the store, duh)

green glitter/silver paint

36 mini water bottles

5 pizzas and 8 boxes of popcorn

9 wooden dowels in various sizes

silicone wii remote covers

lime green, black and silver balloons

2 dozen orange hazard cones

Toradol shot for impending migraine

It's not a princess ballet party. Just saying.

Don't Blink, You'll Miss It

2011-03-20T23:34:00.004-12:00

A decade ago, Coach and I lived in an apartment in Atlanta. I drove a Jeep and was basically a complete spoiled brat Princess. We moved to Nashville and on March 21, 2001 I delivered this

miracle baby via c-section. Instantly I lost all Princess qualities (ok most) and to be a spoiled Mama is next to impossible. I suddenly became selfless, empathetic and kinder (a little).

I began to understand the bigger picture of God' plan for me. This little baby boy, Ryan Andrew, was everything I never knew I always wanted. Coach and I knew we wanted a family, but I had no idea exactly what that picture looked like. Turns out, it looks just like this.

10 years later, and every single morning, I am grateful and thrilled to have been given this gift. A gift and an enormous responsibility of essentially working myself out of a job. In essence, in becoming a Mother, your challenge is to make your children no longer need you. At least not in the same ways they do as small children.

This morning Ryan celebrated his 10th birthday over a farmer's breakfast and stacks of gifts. He hugged Coach and I and headed off to school.

To become a little bit more of the young man we are training him to be.

Happy Birthday Ryan.

Without you, I can only imagine the person I would be.

Weekender

2011-03-19T09:37:00.004-12:00

The efficacy of sunscreen is greatly diminished if you neglect to reapply it after hour 4. After 3 baseball games today (Jack, Ryan and Coach's teams all won, if you care), I am sweaty and mildly sunburned. Oops. The minis got plenty of shade and sunscreen and they survived unscathed.

Quite the weekend already. Last night we went to the Fish Fry at church. The recent arrival of General Krotendorfer rendered me both bloated and unable to make simple decisions. There was a brief (read: 30 minute panic-stricken) stretch where I was fairly certain I had thrown my car keys in the enormous trash can. Alas, a darling altar server found them in the ladies room. After I consumed a healthy portion of baked tilapia and green beans (or fried pollock and coleslaw, you decide) we headed to Coach's game.

Tonight I am preparing to finalize my To Do list for the week, the bulk of which are items for the minis' birthday party which I am throwing on Wednesday, finishing my continuing ed classes to renew my Real Estate license and scrubbing this frat house.

What's on your agenda?

Death Threat

2011-03-18T07:40:00.001-12:00

March is trying to kill me. I think it's personal.

The end.

Leprechaun Shenanigans

2011-03-16T23:35:00.005-12:00

Happy St. Patrick's Day from the Casa de Chaos! Another fun breakfast for the minis.

Breakfast table as per usual cuteness. Note the wee little Rubiks Cube, which I decided was Irish, based simply on it's tiny size and one green side.

Southern Irish...mixing a Gail Pittman pottery piece with a Dollar Tree centerpiece.
I green puffy heart it.

The key to Magic Milk is to put the green food coloring UNDERNEATH the end of the straw, so the minis don't see it. Then when you pour the milk, it magically turns the color. No fun pre-mixing it, nothing magic about that!

My little Irish Italian Americans...Ryan Andrew and Jackson Patrick...

Wee little pots of gold coins...

The whole scene.

This would be my first commode pic on the blog, but had to show you that a Leprechaun clearly visited our powder room. In other news, the minis determined that some Leprechauns must be girls...because the seat was down. heehee

Labs Chill Out When They Turn 2, Right?

2011-03-15T13:56:00.005-12:00

Mother's Day 2009 we adopted this sweet lab puppy when he was 9 weeks old. For the 10 years of our marriage prior to this day, Coach insisted we would never have a dog and I can say with absolute certainty he was "not a dog person." If you know anything about pet adoption volunteers, excuse my French, but they are bat shiot crazy. 3 sets of interviews and a home visit later, we were granted fit to care for the pup. I kid you not, the Dog Adoption Nazi really almost didn't leave him with us, because we have children. Um...he's a lab, not a lion. I guess what finally sold her was our fenced back yard and our ability to remember to feed him. Sheesh.

This face, and subsequent cuteness won Coach over and as we all know, I can talk that man into anything. Sweet Bowman, named by me, for the famous field at Clemson.
When Bowman was 5 months old, we almost had to kick his puppy arse to the curb. He was cray-cray and cut Jack's ear with his stupid milk tooth. Whatever that is. Twice. I called the BFFs and sobbed. I called the vet's wife and sobbed. Then I did exactly what you'd expect. I read 84,000 dog training books and boot camped the pup into submission. Just like I did with the children. Duh.

We had very few other instances of puppy shenanigans, accidents or chewing. Amen.

We had a short stint of considering adopting a female from Bowman's litter. She is yellow and her name is 10 Minutes. We had her for 10 Minutes before I shipped her misbehaving sassy self back to the foster lady. She was a buffet of bullshank.

Today this big old dog is turning 2. He needs a buddy, but I just don't have it in me to deal with another dog right now. So instead, for his birthday he's getting a new Clemson collar and the world's longest walk. Right, Coach?

Happy Birthday Bowman.

Non Sequitor

2011-03-14T09:12:00.004-12:00

Random pup picture. Because I can.

Thoughts from today:

I should have married an orthodontist. I love you Coach, but I think I could stop shopping at Old Navy and start having a personal shopper... took both the minis today and their treatment plans? Cost half as much as MY MINIVAN. Seriously.

Atlanta's schizophrenic weather appears to be finally getting on some meds. Today is gorgeous and I debated buying plants today. I have decided to hold out until the end of the week, but will have them done before the minis' party... ferns at the top of the drive and some pansies maybe. Don't doubt that the monogram flower pots already have faux foliage in them. Duh.

Ah, the minis' party. They have agreed to share a party again, after a brief reprieve from that fabulousness. With birthdays 10 days apart, it just makes sense. I promise a post with lots of photos, this years' party may take the cake. Not literally, we do cupcakes. The party is next Wednesday and I think the details are finally coming together. Just need some pinking shears and some hot glue and...

I've got to run, of course we have baseball practices tonight. Heaven forbid we get a night off from that nonsense.

The Baller Knew Better

2011-03-13T14:45:00.001-12:00

Today the Homily at Mass was based on Genesis. (The minis find it hilarious that the Lector was very Southern and said "they realized they were naked." Except he said "nekkid" and they have been cracking up about that all day.)

In any case, the Homily talked about why Adam and Eve chose to eat the forbidden fruit, even though God told them not to. God didn't put up a fence, or a wall or an alarm system. He simply said, don't eat it. Sort of the Holy version of when a Mama says "Because I said so." But they ate the fruit because they (thought) they knew better than God. Thus a rousing 10 minutes on how we are tempted every day and sometimes choose that temptation thinking we know better than God.

It was actually quite relevant and the minis garnered a lot from it. Lately we have been having some real issues with rule breaking. Ryan especially has taken to making his own decisions regardless of the rules because he thinks he knows better than I do. Case in point we have a fairly large fenced backyard and the children are allowed to play baseball back there, with whiffle balls or tennis balls. Last week they were home with a sitter and decided to use a real baseball...fast forward...broken 2nd story window. Duh.

Don't misunderstand me, I have 2 boys. I expect rough housing and occasional broken whatnots. What I do not expect, or tolerate, is blatant disobedience. They know they aren't allowed to use a real baseball for that very reason, but they knew better than to honor my rules.

We have had some other instances lately where my reaction has been, "Seriously?! I made that rule to prevent this from happening. Why do you think you know better than me?" I can't seem to make him understand that I make rules for for legitimate reasons. Truth be told, he's had me in secretly in tears more than once in the last few weeks.

After Mass, Ryan approached the Deacon who had given the Homily. "I really liked your Homily" he said, shaking his hand. "But I wish you'd given it sooner. I broke a window with a baseball I wasn't supposed to use, because I thought I knew better."

Bracketologist

2011-03-13T14:42:00.002-12:00

Unless you're filling these brackets in with top 64 lip glosses, cardis or ballet flats?

No thankyouverymuch.

You're Welcome for the Snark

2011-03-12T07:44:00.004-12:00

This week's posts will be brought to you by the letters P, M, and S.

I think. I'm not totally sure, despite being 35 and having experienced PMS for the last 24 years, (Yes, that's a hot mess, I know) it appears that I am incapable to charting said situation. Whatever.

It's either PMS, and I think you remember this post on what ,my PMS is really like, or it's the lack of espresso-based drinks from Starbucks. Tangentially, not having espresso makes me really hungry. Turns out that whole "caffeine is an appetite suppressant" thing? Spot on. Which also is the excuse I'm using for why I felt compelled to eat potstickers at 9am yesterday.

This morning I woke up at 6am, on a Saturday to take the minis to back-to-back baseball games. Ryan, as per usual, had misplaced something. As in freaking lost it forever. But no biggie, not a hugely important item, JUST HIS STINKING BASEBALL GLOVE. Lawd, that child is cute as heck, but would lose his head if it wasn't connected to his neck.

We were "snack family", which is total lamesauce because it's 9am and the children don't need Gatorade and fruit snacks. (PS? I brought pretzels and water. Duh.) I had the monogrammed cooler all loaded up with a Thermos of coffee and my Greek yogurt. I was all settled in and minding my own business.

Then Ryan comes to the side of the fence, "Hey Mama? Coach says I can't use my bat. He said it's too small."

Oh. No. You. Didn't.

His Daddy? Oh, yeah...IS A DIVISION I COLLEGE BASEBALL COACH! I am fairly certain (read: absolutely dead positive) that HE HAS THE CORRECT SIZE BAT, you Jackleg.

But I didn't say that. I walked calmly to the dugout with gritted teeth. "Um, excuse me? I'm Ryan's mom. He has a bat. It's orange. He will be using it. Are we clear on that?"

"It's too small. See?" He holds up Ryan's appropriately sized bat next to another player's bat. Said other player is at least a head taller than Ryan and practically has armpit hair. Ryan is 9. I think the other player drove to practice. He's huge. (I'm not judging, but I may have seen other player chugging a Mountain Dew before the game. G-ross.)

"See? He won't get any power with this tiny bat."

I blink very slowly. I wipe the corners of my lip gloss with my index finger and thumb.

"Ryan has a bat. It is orange. He will be using it. Are we clear on that?"

He rolls his eyes at me and hands Ryan his orange, appropriately sized bat. I walk back to my cooler.

Bigger isn't always better.

Except when it comes to Mama's attitude.

"Eye" Caramba

2011-03-11T01:09:00.002-12:00

Coach is in charge of the minis on school mornings. He gets up, grabs his coffee and a shower whilst I lie in bed, blissfully dreaming of the off-season. Then at 6:30 he gets the minis up, gets them in showers and they dress in our room while Coach shaves and dresses.

Me? Still lying in the bed. Semi-conscious in my pajamas.

Shortly before he fixes their hair (Ryan says we make him have Lego hair, heehee), I head downstairs, to pour my coffee/diet whateversonsale. I plate breakfast (which I baked the night before; muffins biscuits, etc) and open yogurts. I make Coach's protein shake and pour his coffee into his travel mug.

He loads his work stuff (which is oddly a shiot-ton of stuff, including the radar gun), the minis backpacks and the minis into the car and he drives them to school.

They leave. I collapse into my chair at the kitchen table and have 15 minutes of total silence before I begin my day.

Works for us!

Except.

Except this week, Coach is out of town, so I'm handling the mornings.

Today went super smoothly, no issues, except that I am basically defunct in the morning. My entire body aches and my head is all cob-webby. I remembered to give them money for the raffle. I was sweet to the minis and we managed to get in the minivan by the appointed time to drive to school.

Mid-drive my eyes start itching and burning from dryness. I start rubbing them (and admittedly yesterday's makeup) as I continue toward school. Frick. My right contact pops out and lands on my shirt. Lie, that's a total lie. Lands on the cardi I threw over my pajama tank. I didn't say I got dressed, I said I was sweet. Big difference.

I pull over into the closest parking lot which is happily empty. Which is helpful because my vision is 20/400 and I can't see a blessed thing without corrective lenses. Not a blessed thing I assure you.

I spit shine the contact (Hello?? It's crack thirty and I'm barely awake, I am currently blind.) Spit in my contact is the least of my concerns, and put it back in my eye. Gross, but I will throw it out when I get home and put in a new one. Desperate times call for, well spit. Tears are streaming down my cheeks from my eye watering.

As I am pulling out of the parking lot, several moms from school pass me. They give me half waves and odd looks. Hmmm, perhaps they aren't used to seeing my bring the children to school? Perhaps they are befuddled by my hair, piled into a ponytail on the top of my head? (Sorry, Mom! I know you hate that!) Oh, maybe they are wondering why I'm not wearing lip gloss. In any case, I am sure getting some odd looks.

I make it to school, and successfully drop the minis at the front door. Another mom rolls down her window and says, "Hey Clemsongirl? If you need anything, anything at all? Call me. I'm here for you."

WHAT THE? I buckle my seat belt and head towards home. I don't look that bad! I mean to be clear? I'm not ugly and by design I am one of the youngest moms at school. Amen for having my first at 25. Sheesh. Harsh.

As I round the corner I meet a red light. I look around and realize WHY I was getting all the strange looks.

I had pulled over to amend my contact issue...in the Crisis Pregnancy Center parking lot. Where the moms saw me pulled over, seemingly sobbing.

"Eye" Caramba. That explains a lot.

Text This

2011-03-09T11:03:00.003-12:00

Coach is so stressed during baseball season. He takes his job to heart and is always the first one at The University and the last one to leave. He loves those players like they are his sons and cares deeply about their performance, on and off the field.

That said, win or lose, Coach is all in. But March, April and May he's jumpy and exhausted and overwhelmed. So I TRY to take on a little more for him during those times. (read: 365, duh)

After a loss last night, he was beyond frustrated. He's extremely quiet and was trying to pack and prep for a road trip just before midnight. Washing uniforms, packing bags, charging the radar gun, measuring protein powder, he was a flurry of activity.

This morning he headed out in the 6 o'clock hour for Ash Wednesday Mass, then got directly on the team bus. His head was spinning.

I called him just after he left Mass. I gave him a super sweet pep talk. I told him I loved him and how proud I was of him. I empathized with his exhaustion and told him things would be great. I would hold down the fort (double duh) and manage everything at home. I repeated that I loved him and said we would see him on Monday.

We hung up and I jumped in the shower.

Whilst in the shower I congratulated myself on being such a kick arse wife. I felt so pleased about the encouraging words I had shared with him. I felt absolutely certain that he was getting on that bus feeling empowered and confident. He must be thinking about his sweet wife and how much he loves me.

I got out of the shower and had a text from Coach. I smiled, and opened it.

"Thanks." Short and sweet. Awwww, he really listened to my words.

I pretended to be coy and texted back,

"Thanks for what baby?"

He immediately responded.

"Oh, sorry. That was for DJ. He made copies for me."

Fricking boys. Idiots.

Catholic

2011-03-08T14:40:00.005-12:00

Recently I was asked to speak to a group of college students about what being Catholic means to me. I'm still working on that presentation, it's weighing heavy and I want to do it well. However, it seems apropos that I share this post today on the eve of Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent.

As an aside, I have given up Starbucks (gasp!) and diet whateversonsale (double gasp!). It promises to be a long 40 days, and that's the point of self-sacrifice. The minis have given up TV and candy. Wowser.

In any case, it's not news that I went to Clemson. If you didn't already know that, stop reading and go jump in a lake. Preferably Lake Hartwell. heehee

Clemson has a tiny Catholic church called St. Andrew's on the corner of Edgewood and Sloan Streets. You can imagine that being Catholic in Clemson was well, unique. There weren't many of us, but those of us who were Catholic dragged our (sometimes hungover) selves to Mass at 10am on Sundays. I often walked in about 2.2 seconds before Father began Mass. But, I was there. In cute dresses. Pinky swear.

My Senior year (I was on a 5 year plan, due to internships and my general awesomeness) I met Coach at Mass. It's a long, hilarious and endearing story which I am saving for another post, but fast forward to this: I met Coach at Mass. My parents were convinced that "church" was a name of a bar, but I assure you, it was St. Andrew's.

Needless to say, the fact that Coach was Catholic was a game changer (no pun intended) for me. I don't know that I actually thought a lot about that before then, but as it turned out, in that moment, I realized that religious commonality was extremely important to me. I mean, just think, if I had married a Methodist, he never would have understood my overwhelming Catholic guilt. Or me giving up Starbucks as my personal hairshirt.

We got married and have been members of several parishes throughout our moves on the Coaching Tour. In Tennessee, our parish was a huge part of my life. My mom's group, playgroup, Supper Club, meal group...all through our church. I was the President of the Ladies Guild and I co-chaired Vacation Bible School. I met some of the most amazing friends and raised my babies with the help and advice of those fellow Catholic women.

Now the minis attend Catholic school. We were honored to have their efforts highlighted at this year's Catholic Charities Atlanta Gala (thus the picture of me with Hair Cycle: Day 1 and grown up clothes), and here is what was shared about them, which I have edited for privacy.

“And now I would like to introduce two very cute boys to you, Ryan & Jackson. The boys are in 4th and 2nd grade at St. Catherine’s, and their parents are guests here tonight – welcome to Clemsongirl and Coach and thank you for sharing the boys’ story.

In order to better set the stage for this family’s unique gift, we share with you Ryan’s impact while still very tiny.

When Clemsongirl was pregnant with Ryan, she & Coach were informed that the baby had serious health issues...they turned to prayer, their strong faith, and staying in good health. Clemsongirl had always been very close to her parents, and as her complicated pregnancy progressed, she saw the two transform very dramatically from her doting parents to grandparents who had their priorities set on being there for their grandchildren under any circumstances. Overnight, they became Papa Jack and Granny Diane!

Ryan was born ... after tense days in the hospital ... he was pronounced perfectly healthy and continues to be very much so! Two years later, they were blessed with Ryan’s little brother Jackson.

When the two brothers were old enough, Granny Diane and Papa Jack established a great summer tradition – Granny Camp! The two would travel up with Jennifer to the Chicago area to spend longer and longer times with their grandparents. Granny Camp has developed into a several week stay that they now get to make solo.

Granny Diane makes elaborate plans of fun activities to do with the Jackson and Ryan, and Papa Jack makes sure that plenty of sports and outings are in the mix. For the past several years, in order to make sure they have a little extra spending money for their big trip, a special savings jar has been established – one in Atlanta and one in Chicago. The minis will put in extra change or money the boys earn from chores, and Papa and Granny are doing the same thing – tossing in money here & there to save up for splurges at Granny Camp.
...

Granny Camp jars turned into the Giving jars!

Now I have to give credit to a fellow parishoner because it was his Christmas talk this past December at St. Catherine’s that caused the boys to part with their Giving jar proceeds for the benefit of Catholic Charities and its clients – and these funds were matched by their grandfather Papa Jack. The boys were paying special attention when he got up to speak because they associated them with the Elijah Cup, and the family had been praying for vocations with the cup program for many years. After hearing from him about the work of Catholic Charities and how they helped, especially other children, they were moved to donate it all and forego some goodies this summer at Granny Camp.
...

Thank you, Clemsongirl and Coach, for sharing your story and for raising such truly compassionate and amazing boys!"

I take no credit for these efforts or the donation. That project is solely that of the minis and my father. However, I do take credit for bringing them to Mass, sacrificing to send them to Catholic school and for teaching them. Teaching them that self sacrifice is an important life lesson.

Being Catholic is who I am. It colors how I think, what I choose and how I raise my children. Being Catholic led me to Coach.

So tomorrow when Coach leaves at 6a for Mass and the minis and I go at 9a it is because we are Catholic.

And that's how we roll.

Laissez Les Bons Temps Rouler!

2011-03-08T01:39:00.003-12:00

Mornings in the Casa de Chaos are pretty legit on holidays. Breakfast is the one meal we are all home for, even Coach! So, I always decorate for breakfast, Mardi Gras included! This year FitGirl found lots of purple after Christmas for me, and we used the heck out of it!

Construction paper runner (I said I was Fun Mommy, I didn't say I was spendy!) and lots of beads.

Purple hard straws in footed tea glasses. A litte secret ingredient in the bottom of the glass...

When you pour the milk, Voila! Magic Mardi Gras green milk. The minis still think this is amazing and Jack is completely befuddled by this. Of course 9yo Ryan rolls his eyes, but inside thinks it's the bomb. They love it.

IKEA picture frame thingys with notes for the minis.

This morning, although they know the table will be decorated, they came into the kitchen and yelled, "SWEET!"

Throw me something, Mama!

Weekend Loathing

2011-03-05T09:28:00.005-12:00

If you know me in real life, (or follow me on Twitter) you know that I LOVE Monday! It's the absolute best day of the week. Minivan is clean, gas tank is full, minis return to school. Clean slate. Monday is the only day of the week where you haven't made a mistake yet. Haven't disappointed anyone yet. It's the day when I say, "This might be my best week ever!" Mondays hold endless possibilities. Mondays are the best.

Fridays? Stink. With a capital SUCK. Hate them. Hate them like it's my JOB.

Coach works all weekend, every weekend. I have to write, produce and star in The Mommy Show. I have to manage the children 24/7. Meals, clothing, activities, etc. I have to juggle my job, obviously showings and Open Houses take place on the weekends. It's exhausting.

Everyone posts annoying Facebook statuses about their family outings and cute pictures of them on Friday and Saturday night dates. No one is around to commiserate with me because they are with thier Monday-Friday working husbands at Home Depot buying the supplies for thier family weekend projects. Puke. I'm over your "family planned raised garden bed" and your "new crown moulding" that you and your " sweetie pie husband" put up on Saturday morning. Gag me.

I'm exhausted like everyone else by Friday, but the relief troops? Ain't coming.

Some people say it's lonely at the top.

I say it's lonely on the weekend.

Hail-o

2011-02-28T11:36:00.003-12:00

Dear Atlanta,

Your weather is busted. Seriously, you are ridiculously schizophrenic. 35 and freezing last week. Three days later, 77 and sunny.

Today? 55 and hailing. Tornadoes. Hail?! Hail?! I just put out the new spring wreath and now you're trying to blow it down the cul de sac. No. Just no. My life is full of ACTUAL baseballs, I sure as hell don't need baseball-sized hail.

You need to get your shiot in a pile STAT.

Otherwise, I'm totally breaking up with you.

Love,

ClemsonGirl

Resistance

2011-02-27T02:17:00.003-12:00

I'm turning 36 next month, and that means a lot. It means I will be in my "late 30s"... Gag me.
When I turned 30, I took to the bed for 3 days and cried. The day I turn 40 might actually kill me. But that's 4 years and 29 days away, so let's not borrow tomorrow's trouble. I'll be very Scarlett.

Of course, I have now started to see the effects of age on my body. Forehead wrinkles (I think my insurance might actually cover Botox as a migraine treatment, but there are needles involved so... not happening.) I also see the biological clock ticking. Hear it, see it, dream about it.

I love my boys. I wish they were tutu-clad little GIRLS occasionally, but I adore them. 2 children is a great size family. But, you know at my AGE, I have to consider that if we want a 3rd, we need to have that discussion.

NO I AM NOT PREGNANT. I AM NOT PREGNANT MOM. I AM NOT PREGNANT DAD.

So, I have been teasing the minis about it. Saying things like, wouldn't it be fabulous to have another baby?

"No, no it would not." They shout in unison. "If you have a girl baby we will shoot her with a NERF gun!"

Ummmmm....

Yesterday we were sitting at Coach's game (hey, I deserve a daughter for sitting at all these damn baseball games. I did the math. If I go to 40 of Coach's games, and 22 of the minis games each season, I have been to 744 ((SEVEN HUNDRED AND FORTY FOUR!!!)) in the last 12 years. That doesn't even factor in practices.)

In any case, I said to Ryan, "Seriously, don't you want to have a little baby in our house? A sweet little baby we can love on?"

He looked at me with the most serious expression a 9 year old can have.

"Yes. I think we should have a baby in our house. A baby hamster."

I quit.

Who Gives a Hoot

2011-02-25T12:51:00.007-12:00

Last week the minis saw these cupcakes in Family Fun and asked (read: insisted that) if I could make them. Not one to deny the minis a sugary filled memory, I set to work. Please note? I'm not a baker. Not pretending to be one. (see exhibit A)

Exhibit A. Funfetti.
It is probably terrible for you and full of things the minis shouldn't eat, but hey, it's a treat. Treats don't have to be healthy.

Tinted coconut, mini chocolate chips and M&Ms. For the record, I had NONE of these items in my pantry. These cupcakes probably cost me $23 to make. Additionally, the food coloring stained my fingers for 3 days.

Dude.

See that delicious food coloring and how it bakes right up? Perfection in a muffin tin.

I think I may have taken the baking term "dirty iced" to a new low. My ability to spread frosting is terrible. Luckily the icing got covered in "feathers".

Yellow coconut "feathers". This led to a lengthy discussion on owls, owl feathers, etc. Owl babies are called owlets. Owls have no natural predators. The human head weighs 8 pounds...

Lifesaver eyes, Famous Wafer wings... just missing the beaks!

Owls with beaks. Minis with a sugar high.

You're welcome.

Show Me the Money

2011-02-25T06:29:00.003-12:00

The minis were delighted that they have finally outgrown their booster seats. They will be 8 and 10 next month (HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE!) and I know that I am Safety Queen. I picked them up from school and surprised them. Jack kept looking in the back of the minivan for them. I never thought they would be old enough to turn the infant seats to face forward, then to move them from the 5 point harness to boosters, then to be in nothing. Bleh. I'm happy that they are getting bigger, but it's kind of sad!

Currently, the minis are working on their first paid chore. They approached me and asked about earning an allowance. I'm not a huge fan of paying children to do what I consider "family responsibilities" (bed making, table clearing, putting away clean laundry, etc). However, I told them that I would be willing for them to earn an allowance by going above and beyond.

Which brings me to my current situation. I am posting from the laptop on the sofa and the children are cleaning the leaves out of the screened in porch. Ha! Genius.

I'm off for a mid-task check.

Wish them, and my wallet, luck!