Monday, June 27, 2011

I Need a Xanax Flavored Icee

Waking up at the butt crack of dawn is not my idea of "fun".
If it weren't illegal, and terribly wrong, I would "consider" dosing my kids with sleep medication.
But, alas.... I don't do crap like that, so I just make coffee and deal.

The morning began with Lennon waking to the get the worm. Early. Like 5:45 early.
Not cool. Not cool at all. So I grabbed a bottle, warmed it, with my eyes closed and leaning on the counter top. Then I scooped her up and she snuggled on my shoulder. I changed her diaper, and we headed to my bed so she could drink her bottle while I snuggled against her and slept 20 more mins. When she was done, she put her hands on my face to wake me and I tried desperately to encourage her to go back to sleep... "Sleep is good", I tell her. No such luck. So into the den we go... where she made a mess of toys and played while I attempted to lay on the couch and rest ... again. Then, I hear a door open. Enter, Lake Davidson. Hungry, cold, still sleepy. Could this kid get any more miserable? I mean, go back to bed if you are going to bring all that whining in here. I got breakfast for us all and realized, "I don't have a car to take the kids to their ENT appointments." (insert cuss word in my brain) Seriously, this annoys me greatly. Especially when I have not even had coffee and my 5 year old is in a constant state of whine.

Charlie's car wouldn't start this morning, so I called my sister to borrow hers. Thank God for family. Just as we finish breakfast (which took all of my sanity cells to get Lake to eat - eat, when all he did was whine about being hungry), I clean Lennon's face off, go to get coffee and step in a pile of spit up. Now, with a wet regurgitated milky foot, and still no coffee, the door bell rings.... Therapy is here... And so is the Scary Tow Truck Guy. They grab Lennon, I apologize for my appearance, the appearance of the house and the fact that they have to move their car so Scary Tow Truck Guy can tow Charlie's car into the shop. I give Scary Tow Truck Guy the keys. I watch Scary Tow Truck Guy get in the car, start it, back it up and drive it onto the tow truck. Are you effing kidding me?! I don't have time for this.

So I go to the den and watch and learn therapy. Enter, Lake Davidson.... Lake wants to play, watch TV, whining because he is "still hungry".... Sadly, dude just gets the back burner when therapy is going on. I have to explain to him that he cannot be in here because Lennon wants to play with him instead of do therapy, so he goes back to his room, crying. My heart hurts for him. But I don't have time to go and comfort him because Scary Tow Truck Guy is beating, literally beating, on the door. Scary Tow Truck Guy charges me a small fortune and my left toe to haul the "broken" car.

I still need coffee... and now, possibly a Xanax. So, I go into the kitchen, where I can still see Lennon, and her therapists.... I step into, yet another, pile of spit up. (I look up to Heaven and give a God one of those "Seriously?!" looks) I clean the vomit from between my toes (Again), fix my coffee and sit on the floor, watching and learning therapy techniques, only to shift my weight in an attempt to get into a more comfy position on the living room floor and put my knee into spit up. More spit up.

If I was not strong, I would have cried at this moment. But, what can I do? What is crying going to do? I laugh... because this is my life... every day... and I doubt it's going to be any different for a while. I might as well get used to it. God loves me... I know He does. I think He thinks I have the strength to carry on, with a cheerful, yet weary disposition - which is similar to a state of hysteria and delirium. So, I do. I try, at least.

I do the best I can.

Po-Po's (la policia) beware... if you see me walking down the interstate naked, and babbling my lips and mumbling something about "spit up and constant whining"...
Just let me be.... I'll come around... eventually.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Keepin' it real.

A typical conversation around my house. Me, cracking up at myself... Charlie, bringing me back down to earth.

Me: (Throwing Charlie a pair of his work-out shorts.) "Here, put these in your drawer."

Charlie: (Joking, in an over exaggerated child-like voice) "No!"

Me: "Not the mama!" (I start cracking up at my own joke... Like, laughing hysterically.)

Charlie: "Wow. You really have your giggle box turned on."

Me: "Come on. That was funny! You know, from that show, Dinosaurs?!"

Charlie: (Nodding his head disapprovingly.) "I didn't think it was funny back then... And, I don't think it's funny now."

Keepin' it real.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Excuse me sir, I saw you lift up and fan your poot.

As if the title of this blog needs any explanation.

Ok, so, I left off with me waiting in the ATL airport for my flight to Tucson. Waiting in line, a single dad with his 7 year old son are waiting in front of me. Dad turns around, looks (a little too long) at my feet, moves his eyes up to my dress, my necklace, my hair... Then he looks me in the eye and says (with a creepy "I'm channeling Don Johnson with my highlighted hair" smirk), "Someone is all color-coordinated - jewelry matches your shoes and nail polish - gold and teal." I am stone-faced right about now because I dont even know how to respond to this. What does that even mean? Why are you gawking at me like a piece of lunch meat? I shyly smile (unappreciative) and act like my nose itches, showing my wedding ring. This apparently works. "Don" turns around without saying a word. Score.

Attention Passengers: What happens on the plane does not stay on the plane.
This is a very full flight and I have an aisle seat. I am Zone 1... we load on the plane first. I sit down, place my purse and carry-on under the seat in front of me, buckle up, and begin to examine each person boarding the plane, wondering who my seat partners will be. "Please don't let it be him" and "Oh no, not her". Sometimes by looking at people, you just really know who you *don't* wanna sit by. I am in full on mouth-breathe right now. An older, and shorter, white-haired man with jeans, a button up, and a blazer starts loading his carry-on in the compartment across from me. He looks like a Professor. He is not my seat partner but he is my aisle partner. The Professor drops something. I assume his knees don't bend because when he stoops over to pick it up, his rear end is literally in my face, (I am not even kidding). It's all of .2 cm from my mouth. I could have licked his jeans without moving. I make a face and lean away. I was appearing obviously disgruntled to the other passer-by's. Professor Butt-in-my-face finally takes his seat. By the time we are ready for lift off, I have my seat partners, a larger greasy couple, who apparently hate shoes. As soon as their butts hit the seat, off came their shoes. I am very annoyed at this; no one wants to smell your feet. We are all sharing the same little bit of recycled air here. Have some decency. I look around, and I notice most people near me now have their shoes off. What is the deal with this?!
The flight begins. Not long after take off, drinks and snacks are passed out, and the movie starts. We are watching "Just Go With It", with Jennifer Anniston and Happy Gilmore. The movie is quite funny, by the way. I am busy shoveling down Reese's Pieces when a stench grazes my nostrils. (I forget to breathe through my mouth after a while.) I am convinced my aisle neighbor, Professor Butt-in-my-face, has crapped his Depends. I do a quick glance over to him. He looks very uncomfortable... Confirming he is the culprit. The air finally clears... Well, as clear as it's going to get on a plane. My shoeless seat neighbor has taken over the arm rest completely and fallen asleep. I don't like to touch the bare skin of strangers (or strange people) so I am leaning into the aisle. I now know what my Charlie means when he says to me, "You look like roadkill when you sleep."
After the flight attendant slams me in the funny bone (which is not funny at all) with her drink cart, I decide leaning toward the aisle is not an option. So I force Roadkill to move her arm.
Trying to get focus back on the movie, I turn the volume up on my head phones. Mid Reese's Pieces mouthful, I see a movement in my peripheral vision. I glance over the aisle to Professor Butt-in-my-face just in time to see him lift his butt off the seat a little, and start fanning his crotch with the Sky Miles magazine.
Oh. My. Gosh. Is this real life?!
It didn't take long for the stench to reach air and wreak havok. I didn't even have time to swallow my Reese's Pieces and start my mouth breathing. I don't know if this man is nervous on the flight or if he ate dead bodies for dinner, but this has *got* to stop. The stench was so thick it must have aroused my shoeless arm rest hogging neighbor, because she immediately started coughing. Great. Not only am I surrounded by butt-lifting pooters, but shoeless hacking coughers.
Remind me to drive next time.
After a while the air somewhat cleared but as soon as it did, my neighbor started her coughing again. For the rest of the flight, both neighbors decide to work in shifts... pooting and coughing.
The pooting and the coughing has nearly drove me to drinking. I am in full on "counting mode" now. Counting everything I see as a means of calming down. This continues most the flight.
Once we land, I grab my bags and stand immediately ... I give my aisle partner a "don't even think about getting off before me" look and he allows me to go first. There was no way I was standing down-wind of the Professor.
I find baggage claim and I find Rebecca waiting on me. After loads of hugs, lots of loud giggling and laughing, I begin to warn her of my plane partners. Looking around, we realize we are the only ones laughing and having a good time. Everyone else looks miserable and tired.
We grab my bags and head out the door to her car. Chatty and giggly and telling stories, I have no doubt we were just as annoying as as the 30 teens.
Just as the airport doors open, a cool dry desert breeze hits my face... I inhale and pause, taking it all in. I think to myself,
"We're not in Louisiana anymore, Toto."

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Flying Solo

So I am on this little vacation, compliments of my stud, to visit one of my besties who moved to AZ. This is not my first time to Tuscon. I was there about 8 years ago for barista training. More on that another day.
I must first let you in on a little secret. My husband does everything for me. "Put your bag here." "Get out your ID." "You'll need to take off your shoes."
Sounding ridiculous enough? Yeah, I am pretty pathetic. I don't know if it's that I subconcienciously (I actually spelled that right the first try!) like him "taking care of me" or that I am too ADHD to know what the heck is going on or about to be going on. Either way, the thought of traveling in an airport, knowing I have to be somewhere by a certain time sends me into a tizzy... It gives me high anxiety. I am constantly repeating in my head my next move... Planning my exit off the plane and trying to remember my terminal number. I am stressing so much, to the point that the man sitting closest to me on the plane made a comment on how quiet and serious I looked. Enough about my idiocy.
I am lucky enough to have no one sitting in front of me... Or beside me... Or behind me... However, I am unlucky enough to have the only seat directly next to the rest room. Yeah, I got the stinky seat. So not cool. When I saw the extremely large Samoan man, with a very nervous look on his face making his way to the back of the plane, I just *knew* this was going to be bad. Very bad. So bad that I had already planned my counter attack: complete humiliation. At first, I would (loudly) knock on the door (because it's all of 16 inches from my face). If this dude does the unthinkable this close to my face, I will ask him (loudly) to do a "courtesy flush". I have no shame.
If that doesn't work... Well, I haven't gotten that far... I was just hoping that would work.
Lucky for me he just needed to do #1.
Which brings me to pet peeve #537: Hearing Other People Pee. Freakin' grosses me out. Especially hearing a man pee. I know they are peeing from a much higher point than women (since we sit). So, I naturally, assume it is splashing everywhere. Thinking about that big Samoan man splashing his urine everywhere made my my skin crawl. Literally, I had goose bumps.
As we are descending, my iPod starts playing a 90s hit by Boyz II Men, "End of the Road". Now this might be a little humorous, and a little scary at the same time... But when you throw in extreme turbulence, this becomes downright frightening. Not funny, at all.
It's about then that I was wishing I had paid the $7, and a thumb, for that glass of wine.
We finally land in ATL and my fears of "being lost" (R.I.P.) deminnish. I actually know my way around this place. I have flown several times and often from ATL. I recognized little stores, and found the signs pointing me in the right direction. Score. I found my terminal. After that, and a brief encounter with a shuffling creepy old man admiring (a little too long) my feet, I stopped, bought a water, some trail mix and a magazine for entirely too much money.
Once I was in my terminal, I found a nice cozy spot away from most of the other people on my flight. Confession: I don't generally like other people I don't know because I am afraid of what they might smell like. I usually hold my breath or breathe out of my mouth (looking like roadkill, or Napoleon Dynamite) when near strangers.
Seated, I decide to read and snack. A few mins later, a group of about 30 teens, all wearing the same polo style shirt, surround me. 30 chatty teens, each constantly "one-upping" the other with lame stories about "Me and Cameron did that..." or "My darling horse..." Someone, save me.
I finally tuned them out enough to read my Glamour magazine, with Blake Lively on the cover. Love her. A family of four decides to take the only empty seats near me... Right beside me. The daughter is eating the nastiest smelling food... I swear it smelled like death. Even breathing through my mouth I could smell the nastiness. I contemplated telling her I was allergic to stink, and asking her to move. As I finish the article on Blake, I turn the pages, skimming for the next big read, when all of a sudden, I hear stinky-food-eater's mom talking about the flight being delayed. Great. I look outside and it is raining so hard, i cannot see the plane parked less than 50 yards from the window. Then about 15 mins later, the airport worker person announces our flight has been delayed... But not because of rain. The plane just landed from Dominican Republic, and the plane must first be cleansed. Do huh?! Is this a joke? Does that mean this plane is that nasty?! I swear, if I get some nasty swine virus or bird flu...

(to be continued)

Friday, June 17, 2011

Your Best Shot

Great, now I am singing Pat Benetar.
But hey, it could be worse.
I could be singing "Happy Nappers" - that darn commercial drives me bonkers.
Mmmm... bonkers.
I miss that candy.

Ok, back to "Your Best Shot".
I by NO MEANS think I am a photographer.
I don't even think I am remotely descent.
But, I do think my Lennon is a beauty.
So, I entered this photo in this contest.
Yay :) Here's to hoping I win.


Seriously... I just think she needs to be a model.
She could totally model in Holland.
No, not so that I can have income (Hello! Child Labor Laws... duh!)
.... though that income would be nice - ha!

Wish me luck!

Father's Day

"I need to make Jesus' daddy a Father's Day card too,
because He's my Heavenly Father.
I think He'd really like that."
Lake Davidson, age 5

My son, he steals my heart.

Sunday is Father's Day... but, at our house, it's today. I will be out of town and I wanted to make sure Charlie received the gifts Lake, Lennon and I made for him (in an attempt to save money).

Lake has been so excited about these gifts. Lennon, well she had a mini meltdown while trying to do her part. Girlfriend does NOT like stuff on her hands. We're working on that. I hope Charlie loved them as much as we loved making them (we, as in Lake and myself).

During OT therapy this week, her therapist Patchez, along with two helpers (because that's how many people it took to get her hands on that paper), made this sweet little Daddy's Day happy for Charlie. Please make note: all involved had flesh colored paint everywhere afterwards. Girlfriend is strong... and quick like a cat.


Cute huh?! I know... not her usual smile... but how could you resist such a silly thing?



Tiny hands... LOVE. And now I have "Daddy's Hands" in my head. I am fully aware that is Lennon's prints, but I thought about how tiny they are in Charlie's hands. Thump thump goes my heart.

Lake and I decided to make "lunch bags" for Charlie. I happen to have brown paper bags and paint... and yarn. We just painted a bunch of bags, each with a different picture or scribbles or whatever we wanted on them. Every times he takes these with him on the road he will be reminded we love him more than anything.... and to hurry home, safely.



This particular project went down so differently in my head. I hate when that happens and then the gift is ruined. But, alas, isn't it the thought that counts? I put my hand prints in yellow and orange on the background everywhere. In hindsight... I would have left mine off all together. Next, I attempted the impossible and printed Lennon's feet as the tree trunk. Lake's hand prints are the leaves and limbs in two shades of blue and one shade of green. Then I just added some outlining so we could actually tell what this mess is. Ha! But seriously, this was not supposed to look a mess... in my head it was all nice and neat and not ... this. Anyhoos... here it is in all it's glory. Hanging on Charlie's side of the bed so that every morning, he wakes to see the hands that prepare his meals, wash his clothes... the hands that fit so perfectly inside his hands, accepting his guidance, and all those warm fuzzy feelings of safety and love.



Anyways... we love our Charles Preston Davidson (aka: "daddy", "da da").
Thank you, Love, for all you do.
It never goes unnoticed, and never unappreciated.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

It's Been a While

Yes, I sang that title to the tune of a somewhat descent song by a not-even-somewhat-good band called Stained. Or was it Strained? Either way, my memory is stained with that song and the band is strained to make it much longer... if they haven't already moved into "one hit wonder" land... And then, just then, in my head, I pronounced "wonder" like "o'neader"... isn't that from a movie? I picture Steve Zahn saying it ....and Liv Tyler.... dang, I am going to have to IMDB that one now... The band was called "The Oneders", but it was pronounced "The Wonders"... but they were too cool to spell it right so everyone called them "The O'neaders"... Gotta remember to look it up.... And that my friends is how my brain works. Exhausting isn't it?

I would like to say there has been tons of amazing things happening in my life lately, but alas, there has not. No drama. No driving off the cliff like Thelma & Louise from screaming, crying, and whining children all day. No weight gain... little loss, but no gain. Nothing just slap-me-in-the-face wonderful, but nothing bury-my-head-in-the-sand bad either. I guess that's a good sign.

I have been very pleased with my Lennon bug. She is improving so much lately. She has become a teensy tiny bit more confident in taking steps toward walking every day. I work constantly with her. I almost annoy myself, but I am just so determined she can do it sooner than later. She eats almost anything I put in her mouth and she cries when I stop feeding her. She holds her sippy cup like a pro-sippy-cup-holder. She even holds her bottle... which is a biggie! She throws her food on the floor.... well, more like a raking motion, but on the floor it goes, with a quickness. "Put it on the spoon lady, or forget it." I can just see it in her eyes... the nerve of her, talking to me like she's from the Jersey Shore. She still refuses to pick the food up. She even bends her head over trying to lick it up because she doesn't want it on her hands. We have started working with slimy or wet textures in OT and Speech, due to her lack of wanting the food in her hands.

Addiction Alert: I am wayyyyyy wayyyyy wayyyyy addicted to Pinterest. If you have not been to the black hole of amazing ideas, inspirations, and must haves. You must go. Go now... do not tarry, for we never know when our time is up. Pin as much as you like. Repin as much as you like. Like as much as you like. I imagine everything I pin will be there in Heaven... it's just waiting on me.

I wish I had a few photo updates and since I don't, it's my sole goal (in my brain I said Soul Glow ... from the movie "Coming to America" - yes another ADHD moment) to take pictures soon. I am going to have a few next week from my trip to Arizona, to see these amazing people. I leave on Saturday morning. My babies... Oh I will miss their snuggles. My studhubs... Oh I will miss his non-stop mockery. (I know that sounds weird, but he makes me laugh so hard at myself that I nearly wet my knickers.)

Now that I have mentioned "Coming to America" (because my ADHD brain trails off like that) I must recall a silly memory. I had been dating (and breaking up with) a certain guy, who at the time worked at Sam's (while in college, this was not a life long dream to work at Sam's) with his best friend, who also worked there (at Sam's). One day, said best friend and I made a random trip to Poverty Point to check out the Indian burial grounds... because we're weird like that... and then to the company's (Sam's) Christmas banquet we would go. At the dinner, said best friend told so many people 9people he had never met) his name was Randy Watson... they called him Randy all night and we would die laughing because no one got it. Who doesn't know about "Sexual Chocolate"?!

Speaking of chocolate... if my sister doesn't stop taunting me with recipes of ooey gooey goodness I might blow up the grocery store. Not actually "blow it up"... but buy that sucker out. Girl is hungry... and it's too late to be eating. Ugh.... baby fat, let me be! (not to be confused with Baby Phat... which can also disappear whenever it pleases)

"Blowing it up" reminds me of yet another funny story (because I like to tell stories as if I were really there) ... my brother in law (who's name will not be mentioned), along with my sister, my other sister and her husband, were all eating at Buffalo Wild Wings. The menu stated "comes with a side of Ranch for dipping", so naturally he assumed it came with a side of Ranch for dipping. He orders that. When the meal appears in front of him, there is no Ranch. He politely explains to the waitress that someone forgot his Ranch for dipping. She proceeds to tell him "That will cost you $1.25 extra." He tells her, "No, it's on the menu. It comes with it." She then explains to him, "Well, that menu is wrong. My manager said that we have to charge for the Ranch." He not so politely explains to her how it "works". He tells her, "No, if it is on the menu, you have to honor it. Or get new menus." So they start to get in a verbal argument over the $1.25 Ranch for dipping that should have been free. He gets all flustered and annoyed and thinks to himself, "I am about to blow up (get mad) up in this place." When he speaks, it comes out (rather loudly), "I am going to blow this place up." (insert screeching record and music stopping here) Everyone at nearby tables is staring all wide-eyed and scared. The waitress is a nervous wreck now and people are whispering. Awwwkwarrrd.

Hanging With Friends... not actually hanging out with them, but the app on my phone... I just can't get into it as much. It's fun and addicting in it's own way but I think my obsession with finishing all seasons of "24" has overshadowed even my obsession with Words With Friends.

Charlie should be home in an hour and a half... I will stay awake until then. I cannot wait to give him his Father's Day gift. I hope he likes it. I hope he cries. What? You know you wish your husband would shed a few tears every now and then... happy tears are good for the soul.

Well, I think that was random and pointless enough. Time to go peek in on sleeping angels and hand out secret soft kisses on little foreheads. Happy mommy :)



Saturday, June 4, 2011

Lake-isms: Wasps

Wasps have infested the eve of our home, making it miserable to play outside. Well, the heat makes it miserable, the wasps just put you on edge. Let's just be completely honest. I am looking for any reason to play in the refrigerated air.

At dinner the other night, I made a request of my husband, "Please kill them as soon as possible, no matter what you have to do."

That prompted a few questions from Lake, such as, "What are you going to do, Daddy?" and "How are you going to kill them?"

Charlie likes to joke with Lake, so he came up with a few scenarios on his "plans" to take care of the wasp problem.

Charlie, plan #1: "Well, I have a couple of ideas. First, I think I might catch one wasp, and tell him he needs to tell his friends they need to leave, or I will have to kill then all."

Charlie, plan #2: "If that doesn't work, I am going to catch two wasps. I will hold one wasp hostage, and tell the other, I will let his friend go once they all have left."

Lake's response: "I have an idea. Why don't you catch two wasps. Kill one, and make the other take the dead wasp back to the others?"

Touchet, Lake. Touchet.

Lake is leader of the Tee-ball Mafia.
Be afraid.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

We Caught the 7 Year Itch

We caught it... and the best thing to do when you get it is listen to it. It will tell you to get away as fast as you can. Run like the wind, Forrest!
So that is just what we did. We got away, sans the children and had a GREAT time laughing with one another and allowing ourselves to fall in love all over again. No this isn't going to be a lovey dovey ooey gooey mushy post about how amazing my husband is, because if you know me at all, you know I won't be with someone I don't think is absolutely wonderful in every area of life. We celebrated 7 years this past weekend. So without further adieu (I love that word... adieu; it's fun to spell.) here is our anniversary weekend getaway in a nutshell.
"Help, I am in a nutshell."

Breakfast on vacation wouldn't be right without Starbucks for the road. Except well I didn't eat it on the road, but I did eat it near the road... outside in the fresh air... no children to interrupt my coffee inhalation... no children pulling on my pants leg wanting me to drop everything to pick them up. No children screaming "I need something to drink!" or "I'm hungry!" or "I wanna watch cartoons!" No children... none at all. Just me, a cool morning breeze and my coffee.


Once we hit the road, we eventually stopped to gas up our ride. At the gas station, I noticed these little creatures... in suckers. Now, I did try Chocolate Covered Crickets one time but you can bet your bottom dollar I will not be trying these. There is something just sickening about this. Aren't these things poisonous? I just can't understand the logic around this. Trust me, I stared these things down, giving them a full investigation. I had to make sure this was real. It was ... definitely real... Scorpions trapped in suckers. Who wants to eat Satan's little pets? Not I.

Enough about grossness. Onto greatness... in the form of my favorite burrito joint ever... FreeBird's. The pure pleasure I get when inhaling (because that is basically what I do when I eat) these massive burritos is comparable to little. This was our first stop in Dallas. The hot sauce... well I usually load up on about 6 cups of the stuff. I love the atmosphere, the decor, the food... basically everything... except they serve Pepsi Products and well, I am Coke girl.


After stuffing our faces like good little fat kids... we headed to the hotel and checked in. Then we checked right on into nap time. I didn't actually "sleep" because I am not a good napper. Charlie on the other hand, just needs to get sideways and he is down for the count. So not fair. Anyways... I stared out the window from the desk and admired our view. I was reminded of when we lived here in Dallas and we always contemplate moving back. I doubt we ever will. There is just too much to give up with family back home. I know my family and I aren't always getting along, but knowing they are right there, a hop-skip-and-a-jump away is not something I ever want to give up again.


We then showered and got all dolled up for a night on the town. First stop, Charlie's little piece of heaven on earth... the PGA Super Store. He tested clubs and I walked around looking at funny clothes and begged him to buy the argyle red pants. He politely declined and then we took turns at the batting cages... errr, the swinging cages.... errr, not really sure what it's called but we played around with golf clubs and hit balls into the simulator... where, I shocked my husband with my mad golfing skills. He must have been real impressed, because 3 hours later after dinner he randomly burst out with, "I don't know how accurate that golf thing was because you were hitting really well." Gee husband... thanks for that vote of confidence. I refrained from punching him. Some call him lucky. I call it "delayed" ... because it's coming ;)


I did however get him to try on this hat with faux hair. He shaves his head almost bald so to see him with blonde highlighted spikes.... It totally reminds me of his Shoo Fly Pi days. Sometimes I miss him being in a band, and most days I don't. I do miss the closeness of all the girlfriends and I sometimes really dislike that we have all grown up and apart. Things just aren't the same. We all have our own little lives and they rarely intertwine anymore. It just makes me sad.

You know I had to youtube this one and share.
Enjoy! I did for many years... mosh pit and all.



OK... back to current day. Well not current, if it is in the past, but you know what I mean, right?
After we left the PGA store we hit one of our favorite restaurants, Blue Mesa... only to realize they weren't taking any late customers due to a party. WHAT?! Ugh... I was so upset. My whole weekend was ruined just then and there. My Mexican food addiction was not being filled to the brim and overflowing with queso and salsa and chips. So, we did the next best thing... we went to Maggiano's, which is Italian, not Mexican. There, I loaded up on all things Italian and my belly was happy, and full. Too full, actually. I am convinced I gained 5 pounds that meal.

But the next day, was filled with an all day shopping spree.... and of course, one cannot start the day without Starbucks... especially if the Starbucks happens to be in your hotel lobby. Convenience at it's finest.
After breakfast, we hit the road to the Allen Outlet for an all day shopping extravaganza! We shopped til' we dropped.... the five pounds I ate the night before. Tons of walking and sweating. It was 101 degrees outside that day and the outlet is an outside venue. One big gigantic circle of shopping greatness.
No joke. It was flippin' hot.

We then lunched at a place called the Twisted Root. It's a burger joint and I don't really care for burgers... or any red meat. I do eat about 3 burgers a year... max. This was the second one this year.... and it might be the best I have ever had. Which could almost convert me to eating them all the time. So, I am glad and thankful we do not have a Twisted Root near my home in small time West Fun Row... aka, Stink Town. Twisted Root has a fun little way of calling out orders ready for pick up... you each are assigned a name of someone you know... such as James Brown, Chewbaca ... we were lucky enough to be..

Which happens to be the second reference to Forrest Gump in this post... not that I am counting because it is totally random and unplanned.

Anyways, back to the lecture at hand... Twisted Root also happens to have Watermelon Sweet Tea and Cranberry Lemonade. I do believe God poured the angels' sweat right there in my cup.

After lunch we drove around looking at all the new construction.... everything that was built after we moved back home. There were condos above the shopping and each condo was assigned a little lot for growing veggies and herbs. Brilliant. It was absolutely precious.... all the little rows and boxes of mini veggie and herb gardens. I just wanted to scoop them up and take them home with me.

That night, Charlie and I entered Splitsville.... now don't get your panties in a wad... it's a brand spanking new bowling alley. Black light bowling, a restaurant, brand new shoes ( and new clean socks for me ), your own waitress at your lane, two huge TV's per lane playing music videos and sports news. Seriously, one of the coolest places we have been for late night fun. They do have a couple of rules.... no one under 21 after 9pm... and they ask that you limit your victory dance to something that is appropriate for children and pregnant women to witness. Well, I am happy to announce Charlie offended none of the above... but only because they weren't there. If there had been pregnant women and children... offended they would have been. Honey was all but taking his shirt off and swinging it around his head like a helicopter. I had to bring him back down to earth on round two... and the over all score, well it speaks for itself.
Trust me.... There was plenty of rubbing it in and dancing on my part.

The next day we had Starbucks ... again... on the way to the Byron Nelson Championship. We did meet the longest drive winner, Gary Woodland... who from a distance, reminds me of a baseball player, not a golfer. What?! He has a big booty... even my husband noticed. That event turned out to be so different than I had expected... I loved every second of it and I would love to go again. I did get burned... badly, and my back is itching something vicious from peeling... but well worth it. I know Charlie absolutely had the best time and I was more than pleased to join him there. I felt like I was at the Kentucky Derby. All the women (except one little hooker in tall pink socks and cut off jean shorts with her shirt tied up under her bra, while wearing pigtails) were wearing pretty little sun dresses and Prada sun glasses, while carrying their Coach bags. It was fun to be a part of such a classy event.... and to get wrapped up in your favorite players games so close you could almost tackle them. Yeah, I though about that... tackling one of them just as they went to putt. How funny would that be?! No? Oh, maybe it was just me. Anyways... I just loved the whole day and I am actually sporting somewhat of a tan now. Score! Another score would be the fact that I have never seen so much green pretty grass and sat it so much green pretty grass in all my life... without the first ant. Amazing. It was heaven I tell you.

Anyways... I think it's safe to say we had a great time. A much needed getaway... and, there is nothing like going out with a bang... By bang, I mean..... Lake, Lennon and I ended up with Strep the next day. What?! Yeah, I know... that's my life... I try to squeeze in as many sicknesses as I can where I can.