Pretty Woman

I was in Nashville recently and needed to do some shopping. Wait, where should this story logically begin? Okay, I blogged a while back about my fear of hurtling uncontrollably toward the earth in a plane flying and the decision we were making regarding flying or driving to a friend's wedding approximately 3 gazillion miles away. Although I was open to flying, for a variety of reasons we ended up driving.

In the days just before we left, we got a contract on our house (Yippee!) and my mind was all consumed with offers, counter-offers, searching for a new house, etc. When it came time to leave I still didn't have a dress for the wedding. I took a couple of dresses that would suffice if absolutely necessary, but really didn't feel like they fit the bill of semi-formal/summer classy (I think that's what the invite said). Anywho, I figured I would have some time to look once we got to our destination.

We stayed over in Nashville on our way and I thought it would surely hold a lot of promise for my shopping expedition. It turned out perfectly that the boys both fell asleep after we had been to the zoo so Mike happily agreed to stay in the van and play BrickBreaker on my phone while they slept and I shopped.

Let me back up at this point, to say that I was dressed for walking around the zoo comfortably. While we were at the zoo we got caught in a downpour. Without an umbrella. Suffice it to say I was not a pretty sight by the time I arrived at the mall. I was a makeover waiting to happen. When I was pushing a stroller around the zoo I didn't exactly feel confident in my appearance, but I didn't feel like my sloppiness was drawing attention. However, walking around a ritzy mall by myself I suddenly had no apparent excuse for looking as frightening as I felt. I can only imagine what the salespeople were thinking as I rushed around and in and out of stores, trying to shop as quickly as possible knowing the boys may wake up at any minute and this was my one opportunity to find a dress. It may have just been my self-consciousness, but I didn't sense that the salespeople were that excited to help me.

Eventually (after walking what seemed to be the entire perimeter of the mall five times), I managed to find a dress which also required a new bra and new shoes. As I walked through the mall with my Ann Taylor dress bag, Macy's, and Victoria's Secret bags, I thought this is so Pretty Woman-ish. I could walk back in those stores, hold my bags up and say, "You work on commission, right? Big Mistake. HUGE."

Of course I think Julia Roberts a.k.a. Vivienne spent a few thousand more than I did, but I think we felt about the same.

Make These If You Dare

A very clever friend of mine made these for a cookie exchange a couple of years ago and I am forever grateful. If you like Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies (and who doesn't?) then you will love these.

All you need are these:and these:And you end up with these delicious little beauties:Melt the Andes chips, dip the crackers, then set to dry on waxed paper. I just ate about 14 of them. I would be eating more if I weren't typing. They are seriously dangerous.

Seller's Remorse

We are planning to move (I say planning because you never know what can happen since we have 2 houses to "close" on, but anyway that's another post) to a house that already has a swing/playset. We have had one of those plastic playsets for smaller kids like you see at daycares, you know? Then, because I'm crazy we also have another playset inside our house.

Yesterday we sold the big outside climbing playset. Once I knew the arrival of the buyers was imminent I began to go through a series of thoughts with the main theme being, "What was I thinking? I have two little boys, why did I agree to sell this great, awesome, super-fantastic tunnel-having, telescope-looking, clubhouse-climbing playset???" I told Mike and he was quite unconcerned, apparently he's used to my crazy mind-changing shenanigans. He optimistically said, "Maybe they'll get here and decide it's not what they wanted." "Oh, they'll want it," I assured him, "it's like the best playset in the whole world." Sure enough, after much puzzle-like placement in their pick-up, the new owners drove off with our playset.

I don't know what the root of my little sickness is, but I know the side effect is that when my kiddos like something I get the urge to buy them seventy-two more. Take for example Fisher-Price Little People. Kyle received a small set for his first birthday. In the three-plus years since, I have gone crazy buying every Little People toy that I come across at garage sales and second-hand shops. His collection probably rivals the children of the makers of Little People.

I do the same thing with books: Touch and Feel collections, miniature book collections, puffy book collections, etc. Kyle liked this little Lego set we got him that you build a miniature car from, now he has four. Anyone know a name for this behavior?

It took a little self-convincing last night, but I think I finally believe that Cade will not grow up hopelessly deprived knowing that when he was a toddler he only had two playsets and not three.

Quick Funny

My little guys both love this lift-the-flap book and it cracks me up every time I read it. (Obviously, I'm easily amused.)

The name of the book is Daddy and Me, the first page reads: "I'm helping Daddy make something, first we saw the wood. Where is Daddy's saw?" Lift the flap and find the saw in the closet.
"Then we measure the wood. Where is Daddy's tape measure?" Lift the flap and...

Wait, stop, hold the press. First we saw the wood, then we measure it? I'm not very confident about the father's handy-man abilities.