Sunday, April 25, 2010

Enough about me. Let's talk about what you think about me!

I'll have a grande, please, with lots of room for cream. Lots of room. LOOOOOTS of cream.

I should say first off that congratulations are in order for me that I can finally walk up to a Starbucks counter and just order without even slightly resembling a deer in the middle of a dark and previously deserted country road. I have tried enough of the $tarbuck$ $pecialty drink$ to discover that I don't care for any of them. Just a coffee please. A plain old, McDonald's would have been fine but completely lacking the ability to make me feel cool, even though it is a little pathetic that Starbucks makes me feel cool humor me I have four kids I don't get out much, coffee please with lots of room for cream. Lots of cream.

So. Since I can't post about anything even slightly meaningful, go order yourself a virtual mocha frappe latte americano whatever and let's just chat a spell.

I must warn you that I will probably talk only about myself because that seems to be my MO lately. Beth and I went thrift-shopping yesterday (we was some proud girls with our new-to-us bread machines) and on the way, I talked to Jenna on the phone, and only talked about myself. Then after spending a couple hours with Beth, I drove away and realized that I did it again. Beth, this is my public apology for being completely narcissistic amidst the pre-owned small appliances.

I get that way sometimes. It is probably my most hated trait about myself.

I have a lot going on and a lot of very big deep stuff swirling in my brain and I tend to vomit it up on whoever is around. I'm just a little, well, self-consumed at the moment. Even more so than usual.

Which a blog is perfect for so, like, y'all set your mochachino down and put your barf bag in defense.

Latest going ons in the old Naptime house, none of which will be deep I promise:

  • Eva Rose lost her first tooth. FINALLY. Because like a shark, the other one had already grown in and sweetie, we do not have an orthodontia tree growing in our backyard! Walker ripped that baby out with his mad daddy skillz and she came running to show me looking like Bella and Edward's bipolar love child.
Last night at 1am praise the Lord Walker remembered to remind our ridiculously ditzy Tooth Fairy to reward her. TF was advised to sprinkle some glitter around the window sill, across the room, and onto her bed before s/he left five glitter smeared dollar bills in an envelope under her pillow (the first tooth earns major scratch. After that, teeth get a buck.) (Buck teeth. Get it?) TF got a little glitter happy - it was dark, really really dark, s/he claimed, and left sheer piles of glitter about the room. This morning Eva Rose said, "I think I saw the Tooth Fairy last night. She was huge! Much bigger than I thought she would be! She was about as big as...Daddy...."
  • Do you ever go to your favorite restaurant, decide to be wild and crazy and order something new, and spend the rest of the evening wondering why you did that and dreaming about what you wish you'd gotten? Why didn't I stick with the glory I know instead of chasing the mediocrity I know not?? Happened to me tonight. We went to get Mexican at our favorite place, Doneraki, and next time I will be the prodigal fajita daughter because the chipotle shrimp did not love me.
My momma takes us out about once a week and this is a beautiful thing because were it not for GG, we would never see the inside of an Eat House thesea days. Except for about once a month when Walker says these magic words, "I'm gonna put the kids to bed early, then run get us Freebirds, okay??" Except he doesn't really say "run get us" because he does not speak proper Texan. And yet, I love him.
  • I had a gigantic clothing sale here last Friday. You know how toys breed at night? When you have four kids of two genders, clothes breed at night. I had literally hundreds items for sale. It's downright obscene. Some I bought, because I am woman. Others came from Tooth Fairy's shopaholic sister, the Handmedown Fairy.
Anyway I had been saving them all for the Just Between Friends sale next week (where the majority of my kids' clothes come from) but after a late night slightly teary discussion with Walker regarding my "time sucks" I realized that I in no way had time to tag them all. So I sent an email to everyone I knew and on Friday, the Missy Boutique was in bidness. It was a huge party in my dining room. So much fun. Almost everything was a dollar, the nicest things were a whopping $2-3. I think I sold 250 things, and you know what? I STILL HAVE A TON LEFT. Ack. Now I have to box some up for some families in need at church, box some up for the resale shop, and tag just a few for JBF...let's just say Walker is about to kill me. And he called me a hoarder. Which was so untrue because hello! Hoarders don't sell their hoards, they hoard their hoards! Hoarder. Pffft.
  • As part of the livin' the International Adoption Glam Life, I decided that hey, why pay a small fortune to have someone professionally trained and experienced color my ever multiplying gray? I've got a DVR full of Shear Geniuses. I can do this myself!
I had gone darker the last time, so I bought myself some Miss Clairol that looked very much like what my girl had done. And not only that, y'all, but the hair dye I found was on the clearance rack at Randall's!

Am I so stinkin Proverbs 31 you can barely stand to look at me??

I decided that I would make it a full on Night O Beauty and use that facial mask thingy that had been in the back of my linen closet since before Ike was born. Then I emerged from the bathroom to show Walker how thrifty and independently gorgeous I was.

It's so rare that I get the opportunity to scare the chest hair off him. I was very proud.

My hair came out dark. Dark. Like, it's black now. Which I should love, I have always wanted to be very dark instead of blond. But, wow. It's dark. I decided I would consult Miss Clairol about some damage control but everyone has told me they like it, and I have truly pressed them for honesty and they swear they like it. They swear. And then a friend at church told me about this little hair Sharpie type pen you can get to hide the gray between Miss Clairols! Y'all. Come on over and let me do your hair!!! I swear you'll like it. I swear.
  • HAVE. Y'ALL. SEEN. those motorized coolers? I do not think I have words to express how cool they are. I covet. Better than a flying broomstick. I can so see myself zipping around the neighborhood, in the car line picking up the kids from school, sippin a cool one...with my they-swear-they-like-it black hair...
  • My mom just got back from spending my inheritance in Egypt. Don't mean to brag, but, she's seventy-sumpin-sumpin years old, and not only can she watch four preschoolers while simultaneously making the best cornbread ever, but she can also pick up ancient pyramids with her fingertips.

Do you really expect to see folks in Egypt so bundled up? Especially not the hot blooded Frieda, with whom I have been engaged in a thermostat war for the last four decades.

But enough about me and mine. Seriously. I'm officially sick of my own self.

What'd y'all do this weekend?


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