Baby D's Debut

Excuse me, Bon Qui Qui

2012-01-27T10:00:00.000-08:00

The other day, Ally Grace looked at me, and literally said "I will cut you, Mommy."

Excuse me, I didn't realize I lived with Bon Qui Qui over here.

Don't interrupt. Rude.

Cup of Creamer

2012-01-26T08:13:00.000-08:00

Apparently, I was so terrified of going to the dentist, that I completely blocked out the actual date in my mind. Instead of happening last Thursday, I have now been able to enjoy looking forward to it all of this week too. Because it's happening this Thursday.

Also known as today.

Which means I've flossed approximately six times since 8am.

And maybe cried a few times too. Don't judge me.

In other exciting news (NO.), I think I've figured out exactly where those 5 extra pounds have been coming from.

(I know, this is riveting.)

It's no secret that I love and adore my morning cup of coffee. Okay, my morning TWO cups of coffee. Which recently, during the last few months, had become my morning THREE cups of coffee. And I know you're thinking, "But Sherri, coffee doesn't have calories (am I making this up? Possibly.), and isn't caffeine an appetite suppressant? Or a metabolism stimulant? Or basically something that would NOT make you gain 5 pounds?"

Well, yes. You would be correct. (I think.)

Except when you realize that you're going through bottles of creamer awfully fast, and tend to have no less than 6 bottles at a time on your grocery order.

And by "awfully fast," I mean that I just might have noticed that, on my three cup days, an entire bottle of creamer was disappearing from my fridge.

Did you just throw up a little?

John always says that my coffee tastes like "a donut." In reality, it's the caloric equivalent of about FOUR donuts.

And I love it.

Happy Thursday, from me and my cup of creamer over here!

Tonight

2012-01-23T13:05:00.001-08:00

I just had to hop on here and say that I am SO excited to "bless some hearts" tonight while watching the Bachelor.

As in, "Tell me she didn't just do/say/wear that?! Awww, bless her heart."

Who's with me?

Anyone? Bueller?

(And yes, that's all I have to say right now. I'm braindead from negotiating a contract all weekend).

(Thank the good Lord for nice clients and e-signing software.)

(And chocolate. Obviously).

SEEKHIM1

2012-01-20T11:04:00.000-08:00

Dear Lady Who Cut Me Off the Other Day,

I really liked how you almost drove through the front of my car in an attempt to get in front of me. That was really special.

You know what was even more special?

That one-fingered salute you shot my way, AFTER YOU WERE CLEARLY THE ONE IN THE WRONG.

And even more special than that?

Your license plate. Which read SEEKHIM1.

Now. I'm pretty sure that when you chose "SEEKHIM1" you intended to say "seek Him first", and were not advertising the fact that you're a stalker or something. Although I could be wrong.

And again, I could be wrong (I'm not), but flipping off innocent drivers is probably not the way to "seek him first." Why don't you check out Matthew 6:33 on that one, m-kay?

Sarcastically,

The VERY INNOCENT person driving down Howell Mill minding her own business, and again (for once) doing NOTHING WRONG.

P.S. As my friend Jessica wrote on her facebook wall the other day, "you're lucky that you had already driven away before itdawned on me to take, deface, and post/pin/tweet your picture. The next personwho does this to me will be an Internet sensation. Try. me."

It's That Time Again.

2012-01-19T09:30:00.000-08:00

If you've been here for awhile, you know that I hate the dentist.

Well, fear AND hate.

Which may cause me to do things like ignore tooth pain, due to my stellar plan of avoiding things that I don't want to deal with.

So, I've gone just a tiny bit longer than the recommended six months between appointments.

How long, you ask? Well, let's just say that last time I went to the dentist, I didn't actually have a baby yet. So.....yeah.

(I mean, I'm not totally nasty. I brush. And floss. Sometimes.)

(But let's be real, flossing is hard to remember. And doesn't a good listerine-ing take it's place?)

(No?)

Oh.

Wish me luck, people.

Cakes and Pies. Among Other Things.

2012-01-18T09:30:00.000-08:00

This morning, I stepped on the scale and saw that I had been given a late Christmas present.
In the form of 5 extra pounds gained over the holidays.

Not exactly the boots that I asked for, now was it, Santa?

I felt a little baffled, and started thinking of possible reasons for this weight gain. Was I working out less? Hmmm, no. I'm pretty consistent with my workouts.

I mean, "the crazy" has to find a way out, somehow, right?

Right.

Then, I thought, "maybe it's from all the cakes and pies I ate between Thanksgiving and Christmas."

("Cakes and pies, Cakes and pies!")

(I will love you so much if you can name that movie.)

Definitely possible. But I still wasn't totally convinced.

So I decided to consult John. Because what guy wouldn't answer honestly when asked by his wife if she had gained weight?

Exactly.

Me: Hey babe, can I ask you a question?

John: (with slight trepidation) Um, sure. What is it?

Me: I promise this isn't a trick, and I want your honest answer, okay?

John: (Clearly nervous at this point) Um, o-kay.

Me: Have I gained weight?

John: (Voice rising a couple notches) What?! No! That's crazy talk!

(Just like I trained him, ladies. Kidding.)

Me: No, it's okay, I know I have.

John: I thought this wasn't a trick.

Me: It's NOT. I just don't understand why. I mean, have I been eating more often?

John: Are we still in the trust tree? Because, I may have possibly noticed that you've taken to eating cookies. In bed. Right before you go to sleep.

That could have just a tiny bit to do with it.

Me: But in college, I used to guzzle non-diet Mountain Dews. Three times a day. While eating a sausage biscuit. And downing a full sleeve of cookie dough. And I never gained an ounce!

(Yes, I hate college Sherri a little right now too.)

John: Well, welcome to your 30's, babe.

Me: At least you beat me there.

Dear 30's,

I hate this slowing metabolism business. Clearly, any weight gained from here forward is all your fault, because in no way does this have anything to do with my lack of restraint around sweets. Obviously.

P.S. I think wrinkles AND a slowing metabolism is pushing it. Let's just pick one, okay?

Weekend Lessons

2012-01-17T07:38:00.000-08:00

A Few Lessons I Learned This Weekend. The Hard Way.

1. Never, and I repeat, NEVER, take your toddler mattress shopping. Do I need to say it again? No? Okay, good. I'm embarrassed to call this a "lesson," because, really? I should have known better. Our visit to the Mattress Firm resulted in 2 very stressed out parents, a ~~hugely~~ hassled sales clerk, a super-hyper toddler, who may or may not have wanted to jump on all the beds, and incessant balloon kicking (by her, not us. Okay, maybe by John too).

Dear Mattress Firm,

Bless your hearts for putting up with us this weekend. Also, bless your hearts for having a Lego table in the middle of the store for the little ones. I do believe it's the only thing that stood between us and an unfortunate toddler meltdown.

Those balloons that you have strewn all over the floor promoting your mattress sale? Those are a different story.

Sincerely,

The mom who was ~~dumb~~ naive enough to take her girl into a room of what clearly appears to be trampolines and kickballs to a 2-year old.

2. The Dora the Explorer guitar is moderately to completely annoying after prolonged exposure. And by prolonged, I mean more than about 2 minutes. You may or may not find yourself shouting "fantastica!" for absolutely no reason at all.

3. You know how sometimes, you want to do a date that's more active? Less "sitting around watching a movie," and more "kind of a workout." You might decide that something like indoor rock-climbing would be fun. (Forgetting that those harnesses tend to give you a permanent wedgie.)

Just so you know, it might be a good idea to call first, so you can learn that most climbing gyms require reservations for skill testing. You know, instead of letting you , say, accidentally drop your partner 30 feet to the floor, or something like that.

I know you're certain that they'll immediately recognize your ability to tie a sweet figure 8 knot, but guess what?

They won't.

So let me tell you what will end up happening instead:

You'll agree to go play racquetball with your husband, who can hit the ball at about 95 mph. Interestingly, the racquetball courts will be front and center at your gym, and in full view of all the people who want to entertain themselves by watching you wildly swing at (and miss) the ball.

Or maybe they just want to see you hit yourself with the ball 6 different times.

You will definitely laugh a lot, which makes it all worth it when your right arm doesn't work for 4 days straight, and you have to start picking up your drink with both hands to avoid dropping your glass on the floor.

Dear everyone,

Racquetball is one of those sports that will almost always result in you looking like a doofus at least once, if not the whole time you're playing. John's actually good at this sport, and he even had a few party-fouls on the court. Just take it from me....if you want to look cool (especially on a date), go do something else.

You know, like sitting around watching a movie.

Love,

Your friend Sherri, who's typing this with her left-hand, because her right one still doesn't work.

My Favorite Things (For the Moment, Anyway)

2012-01-13T09:00:00.000-08:00

Okay people. Please tell me that you notice what just happened here.

(No, it's not that I managed to talk about poop too much this week.)

(Although I did.)

I actually managed to post FIVE DAYS IN A ROW.

Let's just file that one under "unprecedented," and hope that you found it enjoyable and not annoyingly random, shall we?

We shall.

I thought it might be fun to do a Sherri's favorite things list. It would have been extra fun if I had done this at a more opportune time of year. Like prior to Christmas or my birthday. But, since it's January and there's not a gift-giving occasion in sight for someone to utilize this list (you know who you are, husband), I'll throw it out there just for kicks.

(You know, instead of "for annoying the heck out of someone who may just want to get me a present without many ~~typed, double-spaced lists~~ suggestions.)

I would also love to do this a la Oprah or Ellen, where I can be all "And everyone wins a year long supply of Frye boots! And marshmallows! And stainless steel wipes!!"

But that might lead to just a tiny bit of financial distress in our marriage.

So. I'll at least let you win the ability to click on the link and go view the items I'm talking about. And perhaps purchase them with your very own credit cards.

I know. I'm nice like that.

Sherri's Favorite Things:

1. Frye Jane Stitch boots: I love these boots so much I would literally marry them. If by "literally," I mean "figuratively," since I'm guessing there's some kind of law against that. I got a pair of these last Christmas, after physically drooling over them for many, many years. Which was kind of awkward that time I went to Nordstrom to look at them. Much to John's amusement, I lovingly store them after each wear in the tissue and box that they came in.

Yes, I do know that I'm a freak.

2. Downy UNSTOPABLES: These smell amazing! I may or may not have recently been found in our laundry room with my nose stuffed inside the bottle. More than once.

3. Ugg Bailey Button Triplet: Okay. I totally made fun of Uggs when they first came on the scene. I was all, "why would anyone pay actual money to wear such ugly shoes?" And then I slipped my foot into one. And it was like wrapping clouds around my feet.

Besides. They totally class up my mom-uniform of "all gym clothes, all the time." Right? RIGHT?!

Moving on.....

4. Serenity Stone Drops: I can tell by the way these are looking at me that they are dying to make my ears their new home.

(Which actually sounds kind of creepy, because I have a ~~not at all weird~~ phobia about bugs making my ears their home while I sleep. NOT that we have bugs or anything...but just because it's freakish enough to seem possible.)

5. Weiman Stainless Steel Wipes: These need no explanation. See above re: literally marrying them.
Fryes, you have some competition.

6. Pinterest: Guess what?! This one's free. Until you (hypothetically, of course) start linking up to things that people have pinned on etsy, and (again, hypothetically) decide that you HAVE TO HAVE that pillow/lamp/ring/necklace, etc.

Ahem.

7. And last but not least, my Cuisinart Single Serve Brewing System: First of all, it just sounds fancy. A brewing system, instead of a coffeemaker? Um, yes please. It is literally one of my favorite inventions, second only to Tivo, the Internet, and the iPhone.

Again, I would probably marry it.

And apparently, I'm a product polygamist.

I'd love to hear some of your favorite products! Because obviously, I need to add to my list. Or not. And hey, if you wanna go all Ellen and Oprah, and just give them to me, I won't complain a bit.

Disclaimer

2012-01-12T07:32:00.000-08:00

John calls me on his way to work this morning, and we have the following conversation:

John: "Hey. I just read your blog."

Me: "Aw. You're so sweet. I thought only my mom and I read this blog. Now I can officially up my readership to three people."

John: "Yeah. I thought it was really good."

Me: "You did?! Which part?"

John: "All of it. Except for the part where you made it sound like our daughter ate poop."

Me: Well, we don't know that she didn't.

John: Of course she didn't! She's a little angel. She would NEVER do something gross like that.

Me: Whatever, you know you probably ate your own boogers or worse as a child.

John: No way, but you totally did.

(See how mature our relationship is? I know. We're a total inspiration.)

Sherri: Of course I didn't! I was a little angel. I would NEVER have done something gross like that.

Oh wait.

Disclaimer: I honestly cannot say with 100% certainty that AG ate her own poop. (Although, as a person with at least some degree of common sense, I can look at the evidence and draw a logical conclusion.) I would like to think positive and believe that she didn't. Just like I would like to believe that a brand-new Mac computer would just show up on my doorstep. For free. But, since I live in the real world (you know, the one where toddlers put everything in their mouths), AND since I have a tendency to be Debbie Downer-ish when it comes to things kids are capable of doing, I felt that a good google on the poop-eating subject would be beneficial.

I certainly didn't mean to imply that she definitely ate her own poop.

Except that I sort of did.

The end.

2012

2012-01-11T09:00:00.000-08:00

I was thinking about doing a recap of 2011 post. But, since it's now January 10th of 2012, it may be just a tiny bit overdue. Plus, I've forced you to listen to me recap 2011 during, let's see, ALL OF 2011.

So, I won't do it again. I'll just say, it was a good year. Despite being yelled at by random angry dads, getting caught outside during hailstorms, and having to THROW DOWN with Dot at HP.

Regardless.

It was awesome.

And I have high hopes for 2012. I've got a feeling (tell me you didn't just go all Black Eyed Peas in your mind for a minute. You did, didn't you?) that this is going to be a great year. And, as per usual, I sat down to think up some goals for 2012 so I can ~~bore you with them~~ share them with you.

But while I was doing that, I read a recent blog post by my cousin, Whitney. (Who is pretty much a saint, and the sweetest girl in the world.) Anyway, Whitney said that someone once gave her the advice to "Be the Whitney-est Whitney you Can Be."

And that pretty much just stopped me in my tracks. Because, y'all? THAT is my goal for 2012.

(Not to be the Whitney-est Whitney I can be, because that would be weird and kinda stalker-ish.)

My goal is to be the Sherri-est Sherri I can be.

(Even though that actually sounds like a pretty weird mix of Dr. Seuss and the Army.)

Still. I love it. So here's what I think that means for me this year.....

1. Giving myself the freedom to cry at lame things that don't affect anyone else. Like, hypothetically of course, that ASPCA commercial with Sara McLaughlin. Or the Christmas shoes song. (At least I don't have to worry about that one til next Christmas.)

2. Unashamedly watching shows like the Bachelor. I like trashy TV. And yes, I know that they aren't going to end up together. Doesn't make it less fun to watch. You're just going to have to deal with it. (I'm looking at you, husband.)

3. Not heaping guilt on myself for being the kind of mom and wife who hates to cook. Actually, I kind of loathe it. It doesn't mean I won't do it, but I don't have to pretend to be all Martha-y, when I clearly am not.

4. Openly loving the Hunger Games. And Twilight. And yes, maybe I AM a 17 year-old trapped in a 31 year-old's body. And I'm okay with that.

5. Feeling no shame that, this year, I choose spending time with AG over kicking butt in real estate (or at least trying to). I still want to work, but not at a level that interferes with being her mother. Because motherhood is the best job, I've ever had. (You know, minus the crib-pooping incidents.)

6. Deciding that it's okay if it makes my skin crawl to touch newspaper, if I absolutely hate playing board games, if I am more than a little bit addicted to stainless steel wipes, and if I never have Jessica Biel's body.

(Unless I steal it from her.)

(AND, there I went sounding stalker-y again. Oops.)

Anyway, the point is, I'm excited to just be me this year. No unreasonable goals and unrealistic expectations. I think Psalm 139 actually says it best:

¹³ Foryou created my inmost being;

   you knit me together in mymother’s womb.
¹⁴ I praise you because I am fearfully andwonderfully made;
   your works arewonderful,
   I know that full well.

Or, you know. Be the Sherri-est Sherri you can be.

Initiation

2012-01-10T08:04:00.000-08:00

Well, it finally happened. After 2+ years, I have finally been initiated into motherhood.

(And no, cleaning up vomit at 3am actually wasn't the initiation that I previously thought it to be.)

Allow me to explain.

In the past, I've heard some SUPER horrifying stories from my mom-friends, about their toddlers deciding to become mini-Picassos, using poop as their artistic medium.

I would inevitably (and very naively) think something along the lines of "Oh bless your heart! Thank goodness Ally Grace would NEVER do something like that to me."

Clearly, I should never say never.

Yesterday, Ally Grace took an amazingly long nap. I mean, she was silent for THREE ENTIRE HOURS. And I was able to fold clothes, and write a blog post, and possibly even eat my weight in peanut butter M&M's.

It was a great day.

Until it wasn't.

I go upstairs to wake her up, thinking, okay, long naps are great and all, but Mama needs to watch the Bachelor tonight. Which means girlfriend needs to go down at her normal 7:30 bedtime.

I walk into her room and immediately recoil in horror at the smell. "Whew," I say. "Girl, you need a diaper change STAT." And then, "Oh look. You're holding your hands up for me. You missed me during your nap and want a little cuddle! How sweet." And then, "Wait, what's that on your hands? DEAR LORD, IS THAT POOP?!?!? EWWWWW!!! KEEP THOSE DIRTY THINGS AWAY FROM ME! And then, " UM, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN'T ACTUALLY EAT IT?!?!"

And finally, "Where exactly is John when I really need him? Cleaning up feces should so have been included in our ~~fake, exists only in my mind~~ marital contract."

By the way, you would be surprised at the wealth of information you can find on the Internet when you google, "If my child ate her own poop, what should I do?"

Because one day, you might just need that information.

Never say never.

The Christmas Identity Crisis

2012-01-09T13:52:00.000-08:00

Well, I was totally on a little bloggy roll right before Christmas....I don't know what happened to me, but it just might have had something to do with a month-long caffeine high from too many peppermint mochas and/or an abundance of family around to play with and entertain AG. Or a blissful combination of both.

Regardless, I realized how much I had missed getting my word on. (Despite the fact that you probably haven't missed that phrase. At ALL.)

So, 2012, it's ON. I promise. For real.

And while I'm talking to you, 2012, I'd like to thank you for a great start to the new year. Well, except for that time I took AG to school with my pants on backwards.

That wasn't so great.

Other than that, I've enjoyed starting the year without morning sickness, or being in the thick of nursing a baby, and definitely without a pesky snowstorm that shuts down the whole entire city for a week straight. Right when my girl is dropping her morning nap. Even if it would perhaps make for some good snow-kayaking.

(Oh, who am I kidding? Snow-kayaking is never good. And if you think I'm not praying that it has no opportunity to make it's rednecky appearance this year, you would be mistaken.)

Ahem, point being....2012, you're getting your own post. But it'll have to happen at a later date, because right now I need to recap Christmas 2011. Also known as the year that AG loudly proclaimed that she was Santa AND baby Jesus, to anyone who would listen.

A.k.a The Year of the Christmas Identity Crisis.

We started off Christmas two days prior to Thanksgiving, when I put up our Christmas tree. That's also when I begin maniacally wrapping presents that I had stashed all over my house like some kind of Christmas-y hoarder.

Yes, we had to cram our tree into a corner. A section of lights also went out about a week before the big day.
While my OCD-ness ~~couldn't even look at the tree after that~~ REALLY wanted to fix it, my lazy side forced me to just deal with it.

We went to my hometown to spend Christmas Eve Eve with my parents, and then went over to my aunt's house for Christmas Eve lunch.

Later in the day, we came back to Atlanta for Christmas Eve dinner at Jamey and Sara's house.

AG's face cracks me up in these pictures. I feel that she's all "Hey Ma, Why's this bow the size of Texas?"
(Except that she totally doesn't call me Ma, but it sounded better for the story.)

On Christmas Eve, Sara gave me the cutest pair of pj's to wear on Christmas day. She and her sister always wear matching pj's on Christmas morning, and I felt completely honored to be included in their tradition. After I stopped geeking out about our new sisterly bond (and after John and Jamey stopped making fun of us in obnoxious valley-girl accents), we read the Christmas story and all went to bed so that Santa could visit.

(Or so John could put together AG's new giraffe rocker. One or the other.)

Here are our Christmas Day photos....also known as, I Need to Post Them On the Blog, Just in Case My Computer Gets Another Virus and Really Dies Next Time.

Also known as, Sherri Needs to Go Buy An External Hard-Drive or Something Else Tech-y Sounding To Back Up the 5 Years of Pictures Housed on This Computer.

Matching pajamas and silly hats....what's not to love about Christmas?

During the week after Christmas, we spent time hanging out, seeing movies, and crazily trying to visit the Atlantic Station H&M the day after Christmas.

(Hi Sherri? Remember how stressed out you get when you shop at H&M? All those unorganized piles, loooong dressing room lines, and random strangers stepping on you? You know how you eventually begin shoving random articles of clothing into your shopping basket without even trying them on? Which results in you giving Sara the cute dress you found that sadly fits only one of your legs?

But the day after Christmas? Girl, that is truly certifiable. Let's not do that ever again, shall we?)

Next, we were on to New Years. As total slackers, we decided to have friends over, oh, about 2 days before New Years Eve. We ended up with a great crowd, and I actually stayed up til almost 3am.
(Which probably hasn't happened since college, and resulted in me guzzling caffeine like a champ 4 hours later.)

Hey, thanks for the self-taken portrait guys. It's never at all alarming to find out that your camera has been confiscated by boys.

Kristin's due in about another month, and I cannot WAIT to spoil her little one to death.
And may I note that she is almost full-term, and looks about like I did in month 6 of pregnancy?

I would hate her if I didn't love her.

There ya have it. Our Christmas & New Years in a very picture-padded nutshell. Is it acceptable or embarrassing that I'm blogging about Christmas on January 9th?

Um, maybe you shouldn't answer that.

And, Here You Go....

2011-12-31T08:07:00.000-08:00

I'm back with the video....(or "bideo" as AG likes to call them).

Let me set it up for you: At our house, we have a nightly ritual. First, AG says her prayers, and then, John and I sing Amazing Grace, while scratching her back. Somehow, she learned that there is more than one verse, and she now ~~demands~~ nicely asks that we keep singing after we finish verse one.

Every night.

(Don't think we haven't tried a super fast rendition of the song, either. Uh-uh. She's not having it, folks.)

Anyway, one day, I was lying down beside her, and she started scratching my back and singing Amazing Grace to me. And yes, I may or may not have ~~totally lost it~~ teared up slightly, because there's nothing more precious than her little voice singing.

(And she was already well into the song by the time we realized, "Hey! Maybe we should whip out the video camera and capture this moment on film." Or the iPhone, because we're high-tech like that.)

Enjoy! And Happy New Year, everyone!

A Phone Post....Because I Am Fancy

2011-12-31T07:53:00.001-08:00

So here's the deal. I'm definitely going to blog about Christmas. But since I'm super busy trying to play catch up today, I'm just gonna leave you with probably the cutest video ever seen on this blog.

(And let's be honest, it's really just because I'm typing on my iPhone and starting to get a thumb cramp).

(And aren't you so excited to know that I can now blog from my phone? It's a fancy, fancy world we live in.)

Wait. I just found out that I actually can't post a video from my phone. The world is slightly less fancy now. But since my thumbs worked so hard on this post, I'm leaving it.

I'll be back with the cuteness shortly!

Random Stories. You're Welcome.

2011-12-23T19:54:00.000-08:00

So, I just hopped on here to tell y'all a few random stories....I'm SURE you're just beside yourself with excitement. Or not.

Regardless.

Random Story #1: Today I went with John and my dad to see the movie "We Bought a Zoo." And here's what you need to know about it (besides the fact that Matt Damon is in it, and that's reason enough all by itself):

It will reduce you to the ugly cry at least 6 different times. It was either super good, or I am super hormonal/crazy.

Let's not think too hard about that one, okay?

Random Story #2: Last night, John and I went to Target to partake in one of our favorite Christmas traditions. We started doing it about four years ago ~~after I unashamedly stole the idea~~, and now it's just not Christmas without it....it's called, Fill Each Other's Stocking Using $30 and 30 Minutes.

A.k.a. Sneak Around Target Pointing Finger Guns and Acting Crazy.

(A.k.a. Security Doesn't Think The Finger Guns Thing Is Too Funny, So Maybe Skip That Part, Why Don't You?)

Seriously, it's fun y'all. And you wouldn't believe the abundance you can find at Target for only $30.

(Actually, if you're like me, you would totally believe it, because I'm at Target so much that I practically work there. If "working there" means you leave with less money than you came with.)

Random Story #3: Yesterday, I went to get a pedicure. And before you get all judge-y and think, oooh, Miss Fancy Pants Got Herself a Fancy Pedicure, well, don't. Because my toenails were so bad that I think my nail technician cried a little when she first saw them. Anyway, I'm sitting there chatting with my friend Kristin, and I begin to notice this little gnat flying around my head. Having just been to the gym, I know I was ~~a nasty, sweaty mess~~ perspiring a tiny bit. The gnat was clearly enjoying this, and would not leave me alone.

Suddenly, it lands on my cheek. And instinctively, I smack myself in the face. Hard.
And rather suddenly for that matter, according to the fact that everyone in the entire place looks at me like I'm super crazy.

Which I am, just not in the way they think.

Merry Christmas Eve Eve, blog friends!

Surprise! Or not.

2011-12-22T08:36:00.000-08:00

I believe I may have mentioned in the past that I have a slight tendency to be ~~a total surprise ruiner~~ a tad bit nosy when it comes to my birthday, Christmas, etc. I may have even been known to ahem, review the credit card statement around those key times of year, in an effort to see where John has been shopping.

(I'm sure this quality is highly adorable and not at all irritating for him.)

I may have even accidentally logged into his amazon account last year, and seen that he ordered a kindle. Right before Christmas. After I had just been talking about how much I wanted one.

(It was a total accident.)

(Maybe. I can't really remember.)

(In my defense, is it really my fault if his password is so easy to figure out?)

Alright fine. I am a world class snooper, of the highest degree of snoopiness. Which actually does not even look like a real word.

But, I had NOTHING to do with the surprises that were ruined yesterday. For once in my life, I haven't even attempted to find my Christmas presents, look at the credit card statement, or log in to any amazon accounts.

Anyway, I get home from an afternoon appointment, and John and AG are playing upstairs. Little presh's favorite new game is to "hide." (In the same 4 spots every time). I hear them run off and hide, so I come upstairs and begin loudly searching in ridiculous places, like the washing machine, or the toilet, to see if I can get her to giggle.

(Because, really? If AG actually hid in the toilet, I would be a little upset. And grossed out. And honestly impressed with her creativity.)

I go into her room, and she's not in her go-to spot behind the curtains. So, I head into our room, to see if she's behind our bathroom door.

And that's when it happens.

I see two things from my Christmas wish list (which was typed, with links, and given to John, oh about 3 months ago. Because I'm helpful like that.), just laying right out in the open, for all the world to see.

Hi, husband? This is Sherri. Get your head in the game! You of all people should know that I am nosy. It is nearly impossible to surprise me. I will try to discover surprises you have planned for me, almost 100% of the time. I know this must be super fun for you. Is this some new, clever non-hiding technique that you're employing? Oooh, wait. Were they empty boxes, left out, just to throw me off? Maybe I should go shake them and make sure.

By the way, I absolutely love them.

And you.

Love,

Your over-the-top nosy wife, who tried really hard this year not to be the surprise ruiner that I normally am.

P.S. Maybe you should change your passwords.

Why Does Everything Random Happen at the Park?

2011-12-14T13:10:00.000-08:00

The following takes place between 10:00am and 11:00am......
(With my cousin, Whitney, at the neighborhood park.)

(Jack Bauer was not present, but it would've been totally awesome if he was.)

Ally Grace: I'm cooking, I'm cooking....Hey, Man! Look at me, Man!

Nice Grandfather Innocently Watching His Grandson Play Nearby: Who? Me?

Ally Grace: Talk to me, Man!

Nice Grandfather: How old is she?!

Seriously.

I'm thinking we should possibly teach AG a few life lessons here.....namely, that she shouldn't demand that random strangers talk to her. Perhaps that it's rude to yell "hey, Man!" at random men.

(And also, that it's rude to yell "hey, girl!" at any man.)

(They tend not to like to be called "girl.")

(I may have learned this from experience, as John was not amused by my "hey, girl!" the other morning.)

November....in December

2011-12-13T12:24:00.000-08:00

Yes, it's here. Part 2 of my slacker-ish fall recap. Since November is basically "The Month That I Know Happened, But Cannot Remember," I'm going to entertain you with an iPhone picture dump.

(Also, I hate the word dump. Just in case you were wondering.)

So, in November, we were.....

...Taking ironic pictures. Yes, this really happened.
Excuse me, Fitness, I'm just minding my own business, enjoying this cupcake.
Back up off me.

...Accessorizing like a champ. The more purses the better, I say.

...Doing toddler art projects. Aka, entertaining with stickers.
Or as AG says:
"Putting band aids on mommy."

...Engaging in some super unflattering, (at least for me) self-taken family portraits.

...Taking advantage of a Groupon at the Atlanta Botanical Gardens.
Or maybe just taking advantage of my husband. I can't remember.

TRYING to teach Belle how to be a lady.
It's clearly isn't working.

....Decorating the Christmas tree!

The week before Thanksgiving.

After which I learned that people on Facebook are weirdly opinionated about putting your tree up before Thanksgiving.

Among other things.

...Christmas partying.
The Nelsons annually host my favorite Christmas party of the year, which involves the boys dressing like freaks, while the girls dress cute and laugh at them.

Oh the joys of Christmas.

Well, would you look at that! We made it into December, didn't we? Who knew a phone dump could be so productive?

And yet sound so disgusting at the same time.

Biting the Bullet

2011-12-06T07:56:00.001-08:00

Well, it's been six weeks y'all. Fall has been kicking. my. tail. Every time I start to sit down and write a post, I remember how long it's been since I've actually done one. Which leads me to my fallback method of dealing with life....Procrastinating and procrastinating, and then procrastinating some more.

(Or perhaps it's just sitting on the couch and watching tivoed Hart of Dixie episodes to cope with the stress.)

(Which has worked fairly well, up until now).

But now I am feeling guilty. Because I know that all two of my readers are perhaps occasionally wondering where I am. Or not. Either way, I am biting the bullet. Let's DO THIS. Time for Fall Recap 2011.

(It can't be any harder than Christmas Present Wrapping 2011).

When I last posted, I think we were at the beach celebrating our seventh anniversary. Which you didn't know, because I'm ~~paranoid~~ crafty and didn't want Internet creepers to know we weren't at home.

We went to Rosemary Beach for a week, in October, which has GOT to be the best time of year to head to the beach. Except when you're nauseous for the entire first three days, thereby immediately convincing yourself that you're pregnant, and HOW IN THE WORLD ARE YOU GOING TO DEAL WITH 6 STRAIGHT WEEKS OF CONSTANT NAUSEA?!?!?! DURING THE HOLIDAYS!?!?! I NEED A PREGNANCY TEST IMMEDIATELY!!!

Oh, what's that? It's negative?

Indeed it was.

So, the beach was fantastic, and as per usual, I failed on the photo documentation aspect. Maybe because our camera has been shoved somewhere down near the bottom of our diaper bag. I think. Anyway, here's our ONE "Let's Hold Out the Phone, Try Not to Shake It, and Hope for the Best" picture:

You know, it makes total sense that, of all the pretty backgrounds down at Rosemary Beach (namely, um, THE BEACH), we would choose the inside of the place we rented. Obviously.

Before we left for the beach, we had a tiny birthday party for "our little pumpkin's" 2nd birthday.....

Cheesy? Yes.
Easy to find 1/2 price fall decorations at Hobby Lobby? Why, yes.
A good excuse to have my favorite cupcakes in the world from Little Cake Bakery? Oh heck yes.

I feel that AG looks slightly unappreciative of the fact that she can totally rock a tutu and some boots. Don't think I wouldn't try it myself, if I thought I could get away with it.

And yes. Yes, that IS the same shirt in all four pictures. I know. I totally need a fashion intervention, due to my tendency to, ahem, recycle my worn outfits all week long. But guess what? I'm totally re-wearing an outfit for the THIRD day in a row tonight at a Christmas party.

Take that, Stacy and Clinton.

(Actually, come to my house and surprise me with a $5,000 gift card.....please?!?)

Okay, moving on to Halloween. If you're still reading, I totally appreciate your willingness to be in this for the long haul.

I love how AG's all, "Hey! There's a giraffe sitting next to me!"

Unfortunately, when I brought out the "Eat Mor Chikin" sign, she freaked. "NO, Mommy, I NO WEAR DAT NECKLACE!!!"

Diva.

She did however agree to hold it for the pictures, after letting me know that next year, her contract would clearly stipulate no necklaces.

We capped off October with a trip to the Varsity. Because, well, who doesn't love a chili dog and a funny hat?

Exactly.

So, yeah. Not even into November yet. Don't worry, I'm gonna save that one for later.

(And by "later," I do not mean mid-January. I promise.)

(Maybe.)

Potty Advice?

2011-10-27T06:16:00.000-07:00

Well, not for me. I'm pretty sure I know how to use the potty already.

(Although, if I didn't, I wouldn't exactly be putting it out there on the blog, now would I?)

I'm about to start potty-training a certain little 2-year old, despite my pediatrician's advice that I should wait until she's 3.

(Also, despite my deep fear of having to clean up an "accident," and not one of the pee-variety.)

So, I come to you once again, asking for advice. And like before, I am not particularly concerned about whether you ARE a mom, and have actually tried said advice. If you saw it on an episode of Teen Mom, and it looked like a pretty good idea, I'm game.

But I need help.

And probably prayers.

(And maybe some hardcore cleaning products.)

Pumpkin Patched

2011-10-18T09:00:00.000-07:00

Since it's all the rage on Facebook, Twitter, and Blogger, I give you....

Our Day at The Pumpkin Patch

aka "It Really Does NOT Take Much To Entertain a Toddler."

Or her parents.

Some of these pumpkins were literally almost bigger than her!

My girl loves a tractor. But really, who doesn't?

My favorite moments of the day included this one, where we saw a big pumpkin and thought, OH how cute! Let's take a family photo with AG sitting on the pumpkin!

At which point some man yelled into a megaphone, PLEASE STOP SITTING ON THE PUMPKINS.

Lovely.

Also among my favorite moments? Watching my sweet girl hug all the pumpkins.
(I'm pretty sure they loved it too, though.)

We had a blast, and if you think I didn't walk away with a big 'ol pumpkin pie,
you would be mistaken.

(And if you think that pumpkin pie survived the week at my house, you would probably be mistaken on that one too.)

Seven Years

2011-10-16T08:30:00.000-07:00

I wish I could say that I got all crafty and made this anniversary gift for John. But I didn't.

I also wish I could say I had waited until our actual anniversary (today) to give it to him. But, I ordered it back in August, and managed to wait until, well....August.

(Clearly, I'm the very picture of patience and restraint.)

(By the way, the gift ISN'T the weird old gasoline/oil/I'm not really sure what they heck they used to put in that can. Nor is it the drinks bin, or the wooden (sadly leaning to one side, and therefore unusable) table. I hope that narrows things down for you.)

When I saw this sign on etsy, I was minding my own business, looking for fun pallet creations. (Clearly after a session of stalking pallet ideas on Pinterest.)

I didn't actually intend to get my husband an old pallet for our seventh anniversary. But the words resonated with me immediately, and I just KNEW. Knew he would love it. Knew he'd much rather have this than a new watch, or some cuff links, or, oh who am I kidding?
I would never buy him cuff links.

When I gave it to him, I had all these plans to write a really meaningful letter about why I chose an old piece of wood as our anniversary present. But since I basically ripped off the shipping materials and ran into his office with it, that plan didn't really happen. It was more like, "Hey babe, here's your anniversary gift, yes, I know it's August, yes, I know our anniversary is in October, but look how cool this is, and aren't you glad you have it now?!"

Obviously.

If I had managed to not be myself for a minute, exhibit some restraint, and actually write the letter, I would've told him that it represents exactly how I felt on our wedding day.

But it also represents a lot more than that.

It represents.....

The day we met.

The day he told me he loved me, and knew that I was going to be his wife.

The day he actually asked me to be his wife.

All the days of our honeymoon.

The day he surprised me with a little puppy we named Jackson.

The day we found out I was pregnant.

The day we watched our daughter come into the world.

And then a whole collection of days in between, spent doing nothing at all, spent acting like total goobers, and spent doing some insanely fun things. But most importantly, just spent together.

It represents the gift of a life full of "best days I can ever remember." And today I am unbelievably thankful.

Happy seventh anniversary, babe!

Disclaimer: It's no secret that I can really get my mush on, particularly when it comes to my husband. Sorry for that. Feel free to go throw up now.

Happy Birthday, Little Presh!

2011-10-08T12:50:00.000-07:00

Dear Ally Grace,

You're two years old today! I am literally in awe at how fast the past two years have flown by. You have transformed from a sweet little baby, to an adventurous, hilarious, talkative, and always entertaining little girl. Your dad and I couldn't possibly be more in love with you if we tried.

I want you to know what you were like at this age, so here goes: You're quite the talker. Girl, you can really get your word on. (You probably wish mommy would stop getting her word on, am I right?). You started talking super early, and have been communicating in sentences for awhile. Like, actual sentences. Some of my favorite:

"I like cupcakes." (Well, so do I. What a coincidence. I'm sure it has nothing at all to do with the many cupcakes that were stuffed in my mouth while pregnant. Nothing at all.)

"I like a boy." (Say WHAT?!?! After I finished passing out, I mentioned this to your dad. He was not exactly a fan.)

"Happy birthday for Chase." (Daddy is not so much a fan of this either, and would like to know exactly who is this "Chase" character?)

"Mommy hold you." (You say this when you want me to pick you up. Which is coincidentally a LOT more often, now that I have back problems.)

"Baby Rhodes rolled over." (Yes, at least a month ago. And we are still talking about it.)

"Gooooo, Dawgs, Sic' em. WOOF, WOOF, WOOF." (Okay, this may not actually be a sentence. But you'd better believe I taught my girl to call the Dawgs. One of life's many important lessons.)

"Cookie, cookie, cookie." (Girlfriend does a perfect impression of Cookie Monster.)

"La, La, La, Luuuuuuuke. I am your Faaaather." (A la Chris Farley, in Tommy Boy. CLEARLY this was none of my doing. But it's pretty hilarious all the same.)

You are a social butterfly. You have NO qualms about waving and talking to people....friends, family, waiters, complete and total strangers, and possibly even just randomly yelling "Hey girl!" to people at the park. (Even when they're not girls.) One of your favorite things to say is: "Hey. Whatcha doin'? My name's Ally Grace. Nice to meet you." I love your outgoing nature. You're already confident, and that's one of my greatest desires for you--to have confidence in who you are in Christ. I pray that every day for you.

Did I mention that you like to talk? One of your favorite things to do is to repeat what we say. Here's a conversation we had just the other day:

Mommy: (while dropping her keys) Darn it!

Ally Grace: Darn it!

Mommy: No, no, Ally Grace....don't say "darn it."

Ally Grace, "Mommy say it."

Mommy: Um........

Why are you already smarter than me, little one?

You are obsessed with your "baby Bible." It's the first thing you want in the morning, and the last thing you want at night. You may or may not love it more than you love me.

(Since it's about Jesus, I'm okay with that.)

I haven't been doing the world's best job with the camera lately, but I've been taking some mental snapshots of moments that I want to make sure I don't ever forget:

You and Daddy, dancing in the bathroom to a Zac Brown Band song.

Hugging me through the slats of your crib, first thing in the morning.

Praying together before bed. (A typical Ally Grace prayer? "Thank you God for mommy, for daddy, for Jackson. For Man. (Her little toy man, not actual mankind or anything). Thank you God for fun. Thank you for Dubs. Thank you for Jesus. AMEN!!!" (said with great flair)

Trying to teach Jackson how to use an iPhone. (I'm not entirely sure he enjoyed the process).

Sweetly touching and naming every single part of my face.

Snuggling onto my shoulder at night before bed.

Yelling "GO DADDY!" at the top of your lungs, for no reason at all.

Telling me you're headed to "Costco" when you're pushing your grocery cart around the house. (Incidentally, this may mean we do sample runs at Costco a little too often.)

I know I could go on and on. And on. (Now, where do you get that talking thing from? Hmmm. So weird.)

I just want you to read this one day and know, without a doubt, that you are completely and unreservedly loved.

I promise we'll never stop.

Winner!

2011-10-06T12:28:00.000-07:00

Okay, I LOVED reading about all of your favorite items of clothing! And I realized that I never shared mine......right now, it's a pair of pink cropped jeans. And before you're all, "Hey Sherri? The 80's called, and they want their jeans back," I actually purchased them this fall.

Although, come to think of it, I did totally rock some turquoise Guess jeans back in the 5th grade.

(Along with a perm, some rompers, and various other fashion atrocities that should never be named again.)

Anyway, on a more interesting note.....I've drawn a winner for the giveaway! My friend, (and pregnancy soulmate) Caroline O, won with the following comment:

My favorite current item in my closet would have to be a new-ish pair of not-so-skinny, skinny jeans. They are cut like skinny jeans, so I feel a little sassy when I'm wearing them, but they are actually more of a relaxed fit...so I can eat as many krispy kremes as I want. I know these pants sound too good to be true, but I'm wearing them now and I assure you they are for real. Or I really AM imagining them and THAT'S why the bag boy offered to help me out to my car at Publix today...

Caroline, girl, your comment almost made me fall out of my chair laughing! Have fun getting your "edit" on. And thanks to everyone for entering the giveaway!

Happy Thursday!

The "Edit" Experience...and a Giveaway!

2011-09-29T06:04:00.000-07:00

Do you have one of those friends who always, always, always looks super cute and put together? You know, the kind of girl that basically every time you see her, you're all, "I want to look just like that!"

(Which hopefully you yelled in your head, and not out loud while drooling over her boots.)

I have a friend like this, and her name is Lauren. And fortunately for me, she actually has her own wardrobe consulting and personal shopping business, Edit by Lauren. (Not to mention, a super fabulous style blog that's on my daily must-read list.)

(Did I mention that she also had twins 9 months ago, and still hasn't succumbed to any kind of "mom uniform?")

(Unless that mom uniform is an adorable dress, cute jewelry, and fun wedges.)

(In which case, sign me up.)

Last week, I had Lauren come "Edit" my closet. And let me start off by saying, I consider myself a fairly good purger of junk. (I am also quite good at collecting it, but that's another story.) So, honestly, I didn't know how much "editing" we would really be able to do.

Well, we did A LOT. And y'all? It. Was. Amazing. So amazing, that I knew I had to blog about it.

So, in no specific order, here are the Top Five Reasons to Schedule an Appointment with Edit (As SOON as You Possibly Can.)

1. Lauren will help you figure out your style goals. Mine included things like: "I want to quit wearing gym clothes all day, every day." Or, "Help me figure out how to wear rolled up boyfriend jeans without looking like a total weirdo."

2. Hanging out with Lauren is like hanging out with a really fun girlfriend. You know, one who has exceptional style, and isn't afraid to say things like, "I'm sure this short-sleeved jacket with the fur collar was awesome when you got it......but, maybe not so much now."

(Definitely not so much now. Or probably ever.)

3. She will help you decide what to give away, consign, or have tailored. It's just like that Tim Gunn show that I used to love, except I like Lauren even better than Tim Gunn. Which is saying a lot, because Tim Gunn is pretty darn likable.

4. Lauren helped me pull some new outfits together using the clothes that I had. Did you hear that, ladies? In about 2 seconds flat, I had at least 5 new outfits, using items I already owned. (Which is when John became a huge fan of the editing experience.) Long vest that you're not really sure how to wear? No problem. You'll have 3 new ways to wear it within seconds. Literally.

5. Lauren helped me identify the "holes" in my wardrobe. For example, having about 437 different kinds of boots, but no solid cardigans apparently isn't the best style strategy.

(Okay, fine. I lied. I have a few more reasons to add to the list. But isn't a top EIGHT list even better than a top 5? Obviously.)

6. Edit offers all kinds of fun services--wardrobe consultation, personal shopping, makeup consultation, and even an "edit" your packing experience. I may or may not need to try them all....especially the packing one, since I am generally known for having the heaviest suitcase in any given traveling situation.

7. After your wardrobe consultation, you'll receive a Style File, which basically includes your new outfit options, wardrobe needs (along with specific suggestions and links), and some really fun styling tips. It's like reading an issue of In Style, that's been tailored specifically for you.

Um, yes, please.

8. And here's the biggest reason of all: Lauren is offering one of you a $100 gift certificate to use toward ANY of Edit's services! Woo hoo! All you have to do to enter this giveaway is leave a comment telling me about your favorite item of clothing. Cute, comfy, whatever--what do you love most in your closet?

Even if it IS a short-sleeved, fur-lined jacket. I won't tell.

Dumpster Diving and Pinterest

2011-09-12T12:48:00.000-07:00

I think Pinterest has become a problem in my life.

Apparently, it's turned me into a weirdo/creeper who dumpster dives for used shipping pallets, so I can get crafty and make those awesome pallet shelves that everyone keeps pinning.

(Except I won't make them. I'll totally make John do it, because I have a slight measuring aversion, and am not sure my preferred method of "eyeballing it" will work).

(Plus, I also may not know how to work a saw. That's what boys are for, right?)

Anyway, so I'm driving home from physical therapy, minding my own business, when I notice that a new store moving into our neighborhood has some sweet shipping pallets propped up against the dumpster.

(My teenage self just rolled her eyes at my mom-tastic usage of the word sweet).

(Also, I techncally didn't have to dumpster dive. I'm still a dumpster creeper though.)

I pulled up, and pondered just grabbing them and stuffing them in the car. Ultimately, I decided it looks (a little) less shady if I actually ask for them first.

I go inside, nicely introduce myself to the store owner as a neighbor, and then kindly ask if I can have the pallets out back.

He's all, "You mean the ones in the dumpster?!" And I'm like, "well, yes, but technically they're not IN the dumpster, they're just kind of leaning....I'm sure they're clean.....ish."

And he's all "o-KAY, whatever floats your boat, weirdo."

Okay, maybe I made up the weirdo part. But he totally said it with his eyes.

AG's First Haircut

2011-09-02T10:02:00.000-07:00

Looking back, I realized that I forgot to blog about a super momentous occasion in AG's life.

What's that, you ask? Oh, just her first haircut. Where she got LAYERS. And some hair product to "bring out her curls." She may as well have gotten highlights, and a makeover. Since she's practically a teenager and all.

Personally, I suffer from "haircut anxiety." If you ever had a bad, mushroom head-ish haircut in your youth, you totally get what I'm talking about. You know. The kind that may or may not have made you call your parents crying, causing them to drive down to Athens, take you to dinner, and reassure you that "it really doesn't look that bad," and "of course you look just like Rachel from Friends."

And then, "Wait, we thought you didn't watch that kind of smut?"

Oops.

So, anyway, we arrived at Pigtails and Crewcuts, at about 11am on a Saturday morning.

Mistake number one.

It was like a playgroup on steroids, with kids you don't know, and toys that have been touched by half the free world. I fought the urge to grab some Purell and just squirt it willy-nilly all over the room.

(Okay, no I didn't. I'm not a germ-freak. At all. Which totally could be why we've been to the doctor about 97 times in the past year.)

Anyway......We finally get called, and Ally Grace gets to take her turn in the chair.

Which was shaped like an airplane. And was right next to the police car.

(Which sadly doesn't fit an adult, in case you were wondering.)

The stylist was fabulous, and I have literally never seen someone move so fast. Cutting toddler hair should probably be an olympic sport, honestly. And AG was just entranced by some cartoon they had on, barely even noticing that her sweet baby mullet was getting chopped.

That's some serious "party in the back," my friends.

Oh, baby mullet We will miss you.

(NO.)

A little curious George is all it takes.

The finished product. Mullet-free and proud of it.

They gave us an actual "first haircut" certificate, along with a tiny bag of baby hair. Which is probably a super sweet and memorable keepsake, that most moms keep forever. I scanned it so you could see:

(I'm not gonna lie, the bag of hair kinda makes me want to barf.)

(In a sweet, memorable way, of course.)

Lately I've Been.....

2011-09-01T07:07:00.000-07:00

.....trying to keep up with my almost 2-year old, who, sadly runs faster than me at the moment.

.....hearing the word "mine." A lot.

(John's obviously gotten really possessive with his toys.)

(And seriously, all you experienced parents out there.....how are you not supposed to laugh when your toddler yells "dat's MINE puzzle!")

(It's pretty effective actually. I've started yelling, "that's MINE brownie!!" when John tries to grab it from me. Works like a charm.)

......having dance parties in our living room every day. Which, I'm not gonna lie, is totally fun. And conveniently, a genius way to wear out the little one.

(Coincidentally, it's yet another way we've convinced our next-door neighbors that we're crazy.)

......contemplating bangs. Again. Seriously, why do I do this? Every fall, I start thinking, hmmmm.....maybe I need some bangs. And then I obsess over it for a few days, and then I chicken out. Do any of you have bangs? Do you love them, or do they make you crazy?

.......reading ~~my love~~ my kindle. If you're looking for a good book to read, go read One Day (the movie's coming out with Anne Hathaway. SO. GOOD.)

.......staring jealously at the runners on the treadmills at the gym.

Which may have caused a couple of them to think I'm a total creeper.

Yelling, "THAT'S MINE TREADMILL!" probably didn't help.

It's Been Fun, 30

2011-08-18T07:31:00.000-07:00

Dear 30,

We had a great year, didn't we? I have to admit, I wasn't sure about you at first. From the new wrinkles, to the potentially slowing metabolism, and the extra puffiness under my eyes, I had some serious doubts.

(Not to mention, the getting called "ma'am" by teenagers. Was that even really necessary?!)

But, you ended up completely winning me over. After getting carded a few times, ("What's that? You need to see my ID? I'm so ~~not at all~~ upset about this!") I figured we were straight.

But I really ended up loving you, because you gave me moments like these with this guy:

What? Of course we always dress this way.
We do live in the South.

What? Of course we always dress this way.
We do live near a Krispy Kreme.

(And if you don't, I am sad for you.)

Yep. We're nerds. And by "we," clearly I mean, "me."

And then, dear 30, I loved you even more for giving me moments like these with this girl:

We obviously have a love of strange hats in our family...

...and first birthday parties (not to mention, Georgia football)

...and moments of sheer happiness, like this one, which need no explanation.

I'll take a thousand more, please.

All-in-all, thank you for an amazing year, 30.

I think you were my best one yet.

Love,

Your friend Sherri, who is turning 31 today, and might just have to slap anyone who calls her ma'am in the next 24 hours.

Or ever again.

You have been warned.

P.S. 31, just so you know, mama's not down with any more wrinkles, cellulite, or eye bags.

You know you wanna stay on my good side.

I'm watching you.

This Month.....

2011-08-11T12:53:00.000-07:00

....has been really bad, y'all. And I'm not gonna lie, I've had a really awful attitude about it. Without going into too much boring detail, I hurt my back pretty badly. And the really funny part is that I'm not even sure how I did it.

(Although constantly carrying around a 26 pound toddler probably didn't help.)

So, in light of my current situation, here's a short list for you.

Reasons it Stinks to Lay Flat on Your Back All Day:

1. When your little presh comes running up to you, wanting to be held, you can't do it. Or you can try, and look like an 80-year old hunchback in the process.

She is totally worth every moment of hunched-over-ness.
Also, please note that the baby mullet finally grew into some sweet pigtails!

2. You will inevitably cry during tivoed episodes of Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition. And the Bachelorette. And maybe, possibly, ONLY HYPOTHETICALLY, Bachelor Pad 2.

(Why, yes. They were tears of embarrassment. For everyone on that show.)

3. I'm one of those weirdos who actually likes to workout. And I'm fairly positive that it replaces my probable need for a therapist when it comes to stress relief. So guess what you can't do when your back is hurt?

Anything involving a workout.

(Which means Crazy Sherri may have just made an appearance. John, get excited.)

Disclaimer: I know that I'm being overly dramatic. (If you've read this for any amount of time, you probably shouldn't be too surprised.) And I KNOW that there are SO many worse things that people are going through. So, I'm going to take my cortisone shot, my prescription for physical therapy, and I'm going to SUCK. IT. UP.

While watching episodes of Bachelor Pad, of course.

Welcome to Our Summer....

2011-07-20T13:41:00.000-07:00

Well, since the last time I blogged was approximately 1993, hopefully some of y'all are still around to read this. Summer has been crazy, crazy....full of work, keeping up with the Bachelorette, and being the last person on earth to discover Pinterest.

(Seriously, how did I not know about this for so long? Tragic.)

I really can't remember what we've been doing. Which is just sad. And probably says something about my memory skills. So I'm just going to try and cover the last month or so...picture-blog style.

Get excited, y'all.

We've been going on dates....

Interesting story about this restaurant. And yes, you may notice that we are sitting on the floor. Not because we were raised in a barn or anything; they actually TELL you to sit on the floor. While bellydancers awkwardly dance around your table. And everyone else is whipping out dollar bills to put in the dancers' waistbands. Which I couldn't bring myself to do, because I just knew I'd end up accidentally pulling her skirt down or something. And sweet John wasn't about to ~~risk the wrath of Sherri~~ do that in front of me.

Aw. He's a good one, ladies.

It seems that I enjoy showing my tongue in pictures. I'm not sure why.
I'm sure there's a name for this condition.

I'm sure I also deserved John's weirded out look.

Thanks for that, honey.

We've been playing with friends......

AG is nothing if not ladylike and reserved.

We've been ~~trying to get a decent shot of our family without AG making faces~~ taking family pictures.....

It's a shame she's not more expressive.....

Why, I do believe that was an actual eye roll.
She's not even two yet.

#teenageyearsshouldbefun

(sorry, just couldn't help myself. You twitter junkies know what I'm talking about.)

We've been celebrating daddies......

....And going to the aquarium....

Now, I'm not gonna lie. I would've freaked OUT if some man in a weird mask just floated up to me and started gesturing through the window.

If I was two, I mean.

Or maybe now.

We've been going the lake with friends....

Couch pictures are always a good time.
Love how AG's all "Baby Rhodes, you'd better get up off me. For realz."

(Because that's obviously exactly how she normally talks.)

Our annual 4th of July trip looked just a little different this year......

....but taking this little presh to the lake was well worth it, even if I didn't get to sleep in, or drink my coffee and read magazines, or even get a tan.

Well, mostly anyway.

Book Recommendation

2011-07-07T06:50:00.000-07:00

I just found out that one of my very favorite college friends, Russ Masterson, recently published his first book! It was released from Tyndale House Publishers as an e-book on July 1st.

All I have to say is this......Fists in the air, Bruce!

(Inside joke, sorry to all of you who now think I'm a huge dork.)

(But, if you've been reading this blog, then you should probably already know that.)

(Also, we called Russ "Bruce" in college, which was hysterically funny at the time, for reasons I don't remember anymore.)

Anyway, I'm super excited to read his book, and not just because having a friend who's a published author makes me feel famous. (Although it does.) Mostly, I'm excited because I know Russ to be an awesome man of God, and I can't wait to see how God speaks to me through his book.

SO....if you have an e-reader (check), have already finished the Hunger Games trilogy (check-and just kidding, you should totally read this before you read the Hunger Games), and want a really great book to get into next, take a look at the summary below, and GO BUY THIS BOOK!

40 Days without Food: Divine Goodness to a Starving Soul
By Russ Masterson

“I had a college degree, and soon a seminary degree to accompany it, yet I didn’t know where to go or what to do.” Russ Masterson had read and heard about purpose, but didn’t have a clue what his own purpose was. And there was emptiness where there should have been value. As he puts it, “I kept hoping a step would arrive when it was time to lift my foot.”

Disillusioned with his life, as well as with God, he heard this advice: fast from food for 40 days. Faithless and frazzled, Russ accepted the challenge, hoping for direction, reflecting on the past, and wrestling with issues like purpose, faith, and love.

In this book, readers will find a fresh literary voice — an insightful thinker who meets people in their humanity while helping them to see they can be rescued from it. The journey of these forty days without food will help you explore what really matters in life

Available on the Kindle, Nook, and iPad (via the free Kindle app for iPad).
http://www.russmasterson.com/

Hashtags and Hail

2011-06-23T13:32:00.000-07:00

First of all, can someone please explain this "hashtag" business on twitter? Mee Maw over here doesn't get it. At all.

Hey! Maybe I should tweet about it. I think it would look like this:

@sherridickens
What in the heck is a hashtag? #confusedandold

Dear Hashtag,

I refuse to use you. Well, basically I don't know what you are, which makes me feel kinda ancient. Also, I forget to tweet on a regular basis, so that might have something to do with it.

Even still, on principle, I refuse.

Btw, I would consider renaming yourself. Because "hashtag" sounds like a weird cross between an illegal drug and a nasty skin condition.

Your twitter-challenged friend,
Sherri

On a different note, I realized that I never posted about a ~~freakishly terrifying~~ interesting thing that happened to me back in May.

(Why is this not surprising?)

Anyway, John and I went to the wedding of some good friends up in North Carolina. We got up there early Friday afternoon, and decided to meet up with some other friends (Rod and Kristin) for a hike.

I actually LOVE hiking. One summer, we even went on a trip to Glacier National Park, and did 10 mile hikes every day....awesome. So, needless to say, I was pretty excited for an afternoon hike.

Until I noticed the dark thunderclouds that were nearby.

Did I mention that I am the ULTIMATE weather worrier? I'm basically down in our basement the moment a cloud is spotted in the sky, because I'm certain that there's rotation in it.

(Obviously, I am a weather expert.)

(NO.)

Here we are, pre-hike. Yes, that's me, rocking some sweet spandex, wool socks, and hiking boots.
A winning outfit combo if there ever was one.

As we're hiking up this mountain, I'm keeping one eye on the dark clouds that, OH HEY, are moving closer. Kristin, , meanwhile, is telling me that, as a PA, she's seen several lighting strike victims in the ER. And did you know that lightening usually exits your body through your big toe? Blowing it completely off in many cases.

Why, no. No, I did not know that. Nor did I want to.
At this point, even the boys begin to get slightly worried. The clouds are directly over us, it's starting to rain, and there are some occasional lightening strikes nearby. We are also 2-3 miles away from the car, straight up a mountain. (I may or may not have reached ultimate meltdown mode at this point.)

We turn around, even though there's no way we're getting back before all heck breaks loose. Suddenly, I get jacked in the head by something and realize it's now HAILING. We half-slide down this muddy hill and take cover under a tree. Did I mention it's still lightening? Our sweet husbands literally cover our bodies with theirs, trying to shield us from the hail.

Let's peek inside my mind at this moment in life, shall we?

"Dear Lord, we're about to die on this mountain, aren't we!?! I so didn't want to go out like this, as the idiots that decided to hike during what is obviously a tornado. Oh my gosh, my big toe is about to get blown off, isn't it? Because we're totally going to get struck by lightening. Could you just take me home before that happens? Wait, did John just start praying out loud? Okay, that means I'm really not exaggerating and being dramatic. We're in some serious trouble here."

There was a little more praying and begging for safety involved, but I can honestly say, it was one of the scariest moments of my life. The storm finally stopped, and we made it back down the mountain, covered in mud, leaves, and hail bruises.......but so thankful for God's protection.

And for the fact that I still had my big toes, of course.

And here we are post-hike. Notice the mud, leaves, and sopping wet clothes.
Please do NOT notice the weird finger-puppetness of my right hand.

Embarrassing

2011-06-09T09:48:00.000-07:00

The other day, I made the super-wise decision to go running. At 2:00 in the afternoon.

When it was ninety-four degrees outside.

Clearly, I'm a genius.

You know those guys at the gym who get really sweaty, the kind where the sweat has basically soaked their entire outfit? Well, multiply that times 5, and THAT is how much I sweat.

(Attractive. I know.)

Also, somehow I actually sweat from my sinuses. Yes. Kind of like dogs sweat from their tongues. I'm sure there is a logical, medical reason for this.

Or not.

Anyway, I finished my run, and noticed that my new neighbor was out planting flowers around her mailbox. I decide to go say hi, because I've decided that we should clearly be friends.

John comes out halfway through our conversation to say hey, and I notice he keeps looking at me funny. I decide it's nothing, until we're walking back toward our house, and John is all, "hey.....don't freak out or anything.....but you have a huge booger in your right nostril."

Dear Husband,

First of all, thank you for prefacing with a "don't freak out." You obviously know me so well. Because I almost punched you right there on our front lawn for not telling me, you know, when it might've been convenient. Like, say, while I was chatting up a storm with a booger DANGLING FROM MY NOSE. I'm pretty sure our marital contract includes stipulations about telling each other when we have food stuck in our teeth, bad breath, and especially embarrassing booger situations! What's that? You didn't read that part?

Clearly.

You are SO on your own next time you have broccoli in your teeth.

Love,

Your very sweaty wife, who, ironically, is very particular about having clear nostrils at all times, and who now has yet another embarrassing story to tell. Let's just add it to the accidental flashing of your co-workers, the accidental flashing of my entire freshman dorm, and what I like to call "the communion incident."

Vacation....by the Numbers

2011-06-06T12:31:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm sure you will all be just shocked to know that I've been on vacation. Because I'm nothing if not super-crafty when it comes to letting people (and by "people" I mean "Internet creepers") know that I'm away from home.

Or, perhaps a two-plus week silence could actually indicate that I'm away from home?

(On the other hand, it could also indicate that I'm too lazy to be a real blogger.)

We just got back from a family vacation to Eleuthera, one of the more remote islands in the Bahamas. It. was. awesome. Since Internet and phone service isn't great (and by "not great," I mean, "will cost you about a billion dollars per use"), I wasn't able to blog while I was away.

(As if that would've happened anyway. Let's be honest.)

SO, here's our vacation, by the numbers:

Bahamian island with some of the prettiest beaches I've ever seen.: ONE

Number of episodes of American Idol watched at local restaurant Ship to Shore: TWO

Previously watched episodes of American Idol by Sherri in life: ZERO

Times John and I danced in a public restaurant: SEVERAL

Number of restaurant patrons, other than our family, during said dancing: ZERO (thankfully)

Crazy van photos: Approximately 42

Times Sherri finger-pointed and made weird faces during van photos: TOO MANY

Books stored on my kindle prior to the trip: About 37

John's level of unhappiness over the bill from amazon prior to the trip: HIGH (there may not even be a number to describe it)

Scooter rides: TWO

Bugs that flew in my MOUTH and STUNG ME during said scooter rides: ONE (and it was one too many, thankyouverymuch)

Maxi-dresses worn (by me, not John. Thank goodness): MANY

It was a fantastic vacation.....despite missing AG like CRAZY. And despite crying every night after skyping with her. And despite the fact that I get seasick if I even so much as float in the ocean, which basically prevents me from any and all water sports.

By the way, did I mention what Eleuthera is known for? Water sports.

But there's always my kindle. Right, John?

Clearly.

A List For Your Thursday. Except It Is Now Monday.

2011-05-16T11:54:00.000-07:00

Hi blog-friends….we had a rough week last week! My little presh has been sick, so I’m hoping you’ll cut me some slack, since blogging with a sick baby= so. not. happening.

(Or, maybe just because you know how things work around here.)

(Which makes me love you even more than I already do.)

In light of last week’s experiences, I’ve come up with a highly educational and informative list for you. Please feel free to thank me later. (Or now. Whichever you prefer.)

TOP SIGNS YOUR CHILD IS SICK

1. She will magically decide to take a nap. Last Tuesday, AG’s teachers at school were all, “We think something’s wrong with her.” And I was like, “Why? What did she do?! DID SHE BITE SOMEONE?” And then they were all, “Um, no, but she actually took a nap today.”

(Apparently she believes that naptime rules don’t apply to her.)

(I have no idea where she gets such a blatant disregard for the rules.)

2. She will constantly cling to you in a death grip, koala-bear style. Which makes it kinda difficult to open a medicine bottle. Or go to the doctor’s office. Or go to the bathroom. Ahem.

3. She will literally refuse to play with anything. Even your iPhone. Even when you place it enticingly just out of reach, as a super scientific test to see if you can get her to move.

I almost took her to the ER right then and there, except I was afraid of a scenario like this:

Nurse: Tell me what’s wrong with your baby.

Me: Um, well, she didn’t want to play with my iPhone….

Nurse: Get out.

4. She will sit perfectly still, for THREE SOLID HOURS, while you watch Hellcats, Pregnant in Heels, and Bethenny Ever After. And when you get worried, and hypothetically try to tempt her with some brownies, she will not budge.

I almost took her to the ER right then and there, except I was afraid of a scenario like this:

Nurse: You again? What now?

Me: Um , well, she didn’t want to eat brownies with me while we were watching tv….

Nurse: I’m calling security.

5. Conveniently, your husband will be out of town. Upon his return, your child will magically begin running around like an adorable tornado of energy, with that awful popping toy that makes your ears bleed.

(Btw, he will not believe you when you tell him how hard it was, how stressed out you were, and how you clearly deserve a spa day for Mother’s day.)

(And he may or may not seem to find pleasure in repeatedly saying obnoxious things like, “oh, she just needed her daddy!”)

Obviously.

How pitiful is this face?

Also, is it wrong that I took pictures?

Also, don’t answer that.

Problem Hair

2011-05-04T11:12:00.000-07:00

I have what's called "problem" hair. Some of you may know what I'm talking about....hair that can't decide if it wants to be straight or curly, so it ends up being frizzy/wavy as a result?

Good times.

Recently though, I tried my first Keratin Express straightening treatment. And it was glorious. (Well, you know, as glorious as hair can be.)

Let me list the ways....

1. It was cheap (Yes. Really. Less than what I spend in a trip to Target. Which actually might not be saying much, now that I think about it.)
2. I could wash my hair after 24 hours (apparently, the non-express version of the treatment calls for 72 hours of unwashed, hanging in your face, kind of hair. Um. no.)
3. It made me pretty much love my hair for 6 weeks.
And then it wore out. And then I was sad. And THEN I called the salon to schedule another treatment.

(Because those of y'all in the South know that we're entering the "HOLY HECK, IT'S ABOUT A THOUSAND DEGREES AND 100% HUMIDITY OUT HERE" season. Which the rest of y'all call "summer." Which does bad, bad things to frizzy hair.)

And THEN I HEARD THIS.....

Receptionist: (Perkily) Hello, this is ______ Salon!

Me: Hi, I"m calling to schedule another keratin express treatment.

Receptionist: Oh, we don't do those anymore.

Me: (Panicking) What? Why?! YOU WERE MY ONLY HOPE FOR FRIZZ-FREE HAIR!

Receptionist: Oh, um, just because of the formaldehyde. And, you know, the whole "causing cancer" thing.

Right. Just that small thing.

Super.

Proud

2011-05-02T11:16:00.000-07:00

So, I'm taking a brief departure from all things sarcastic and non-serious today.

(I know. It's weird for me too.)

But I just want to say how proud I am to be an American, and how incredibly thankful I am for all of the men & women of the military, who risk their lives to protect and defend our country.

You are awesome, and we are hugely in your debt. THANK YOU.

And in case you're wondering, I was already asleep last night when President Obama addressed the nation. (Apparently, I am old.) But don't think John didn't come in and wake me up to tell me all about it. And don't think I wasn't so keyed up that I couldn't go back to sleep for THREE HOURS after that.

Good times. (And, HELLO, sarcasm...we're back!)

Happy Birthday, John!

2011-04-28T07:03:00.000-07:00

First, thank you all so much for your support of my work blog! I felt so special, and I really do get super-dorktastic-ly excited every time one of you leaves a comment. Kind of like this:

Me: John! John! So-and-so just left a comment on my blog! They said---

John: Wait. Do you actually know this person?

Me: Um, well, I mean, I read their blog and I know that she has a husband, a dog, and her favorite color is pink.

John: (Under his breath) Creeper.

He is slightly to very weirded out by all this blogging stuff, but he IS THIRTY-THREE today, so he's in a much older generation. I guess it's understandable.

(Two years DOES equal a different generation, right? Clearly I'm so young compared to him. Even though he can kick my tail in sprints. And may or may not know the lyrics to more rap songs than I do. And be generally cooler than me.)

Since I'm pretty sure I can't top last year's birthday list, let me just say this:

Happy Birthday, babe! I literally can't even put into words how much I love you, and I'm pretty sure all my blog readers would vomit on their keyboards if I tried. So, just know that it's much more than any description I could come up with. I can't wait to celebrate with you. You make 33 look like the new 25.

(Also, please don't get mad when I give you your present. It's awesome, and I know you'll want me to take it back and get you something super boring like dress socks, but I'm sorry. I can't do it.)

(Also, I'm actually 3 years younger than you. For the next 3 months. And you'd better believe I'm gonna milk that for all it's worth. Enjoy).

(That is all.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BJP!

(Nope. Still too embarrassing to explain. We'll just leave it at that.)

Makeover and Giveaway!

2011-04-26T06:14:00.000-07:00

Sadly, the makeover's not for me......it's for my real estate blog, Brookhaven and Beyond! (Let's call her BB, shall we?) And trust me when I tell you she looks fierce.

(Because clearly my blog's a girl.)

(And clearly I should never say things like "fierce.")

Anyway, BB was looking a little dated. A little less than fresh. Also, I was getting lots of creepy spam comments, and was tired of deleting them. Needless to say, it was time for a change.

Once again, I worked with my friend Melanie of Elegant Custom Blogs. Y'all, she may or may not be a mind-reader, because she pretty much instantly knew what I wanted. She also taught me what a "favicon" is. Plus, she's the sweetest person on the planet, and could not be easier to work with. I've said it once, and I'll say it again--if you need a new blog design, contact her immediately! Or if you just want to be her friend. She's awesome!

Now, as I mentioned in the title, I'm combining a girl's two favorite things: A makeover and a giveaway! I already told you about the makeover, so on to the giveaway. I'm giving away a $100 VISA gift card......yes, you read that correctly. $100 cash money. (In the gift card form, of course.)

You can use it for gas. (Boring)

You can use it to pay bills. (Snooze)

You can use it for a shopping spree at Anthropologie (Well, that would be more like 1 shirt, or 1/2 of a dress.....)

You get my drift......you can use it for whatever you want!! All you have to do is head over to Brookhaven and Beyond, and become a follower. And if you're an overachiever like me, I'll give you a second entry just for leaving me a comment! Tell me what real estate question or topic you want to know more about. And boom! Two entries.

(Plus, you'll make me feel really loved, and if you think I'm not above bribing people to love me.....obviously I just proved you wrong.)

Easter pictures coming! (At my current rate of blogging about holidays, probably somewhere around November, but that's okay. I'm sure you understand.)

Angry Dads and One-Way Streets (It's good to avoid both)

2011-04-21T09:00:00.000-07:00

Okay, I've been debating on whether I should post this story. I mean, it really doesn't make me look great, and may possibly lead you to judge me.....BUT on other hand, it's probably too good not to share.

Hmmm, looking bad vs. good story?  Since we're all about keeping it real around here, let's go with the story.

Disclaimer: I love Jesus. I want to be more like Him. There are, however, many, many, many times a day where I fall short, and my pride/impatience/general road-rage-y-ness gets the best of me. Especially the road-rage-y-ness.

The other day, John took AG to the park for me, while I ran to Target. We were leaving town the next day, and I had fallen into Sherri-super-stress mode, as I had procrastinated everything I needed to do until the very last minute. (Also known as, having a toddler and never having any time to get things done).

I realized right before leaving the house that John left the diaper bag at home. "OH NO!" I thought to myself. "What if he has a diaper "situation" on the swing set?" (I mean, AG, not John. He doesn't have diaper situations. Anymore. Don't worry).

I decided to run the diaper bag over to the park, and then be on my merry little way to Target. I dropped off the bag, and then, in an effort to save time "failed to notice" a one-way street sign on a little side street near my house. Thinking I would just cut through, and get up to the main road more quickly.

(I may or may not have a slight tendency to think road signs/rules don't apply to me. It is a problem, and I'm working on it. Kinda.)

I turn onto the one-way street, and immediately notice a dad walking towards the middle of the road. So he can block my car. He looks angry.

Did I mention that I hate confrontation?

I roll down my window and prepare to tell him, I'm so sorry, I wasn't really paying attention, it will never happen again, etc.   And this happens:

Angry Dad: Are you kidding me?! Did you really just do that?!

Me: Um, uh, s-s-sorry...I mean, uh....you're scary.

Angry Dad: You clearly don't have children, because if you did, you would never endanger kids like this!

Me (did he just question my parenting? OH NO HE DIDN'T!): Well, sir, your children are still about 100 yards away, and I believe I was going approximately 4 miles an hour making the turn. So.........

Angry Dad: Just get out of here!

Me: (While bravely rolling up my window at the same time), IDIOT.

Disclaimer: Again, I am not proud of my response. NOT at all what Jesus would do. It was in fact, what worldly-minded Sherri would do. I do not recommend this response to anyone. And I cannot condone turning onto one-way streets to save time.

Even if you're in a hurry.

Even if everyone else in the neighborhood uses the very same street as a cut-through.

Ahem.

Anyway, about 10 minutes later, I'm still ticked. Having conversations in my head with Angry Dad. Thanking the Lord that I was in John's car and without AG--maybe if I see this guy around the neighborhood, he won't recognize me with my clever "different car and baby disguise."

I call John to rant about it. A few minutes into my story, he's all: OH MY GOSH, Sherri! NO YOU DIDN'T!

And I'm like, HEY! You're supposed to be on my side! Andy by the way, you cut through there all the time!

Why yes. Yes he does. And JUST did.  About, oh, 5 minutes after I did.

And this is what happened:

John sees Angry Dad come into the middle of the street to block him. John politely veers around him to keep going. Angry Dad BANGS ON THE SIDE WINDOW OF MY CAR. John stops the car.

John: DUDE! What are you doing?!

Angry Dad: Blah, blah, blah, kids, danger, blah, irresponsible, look at your baby in the backseat, how could you, guilt trip, blah.

John: (While totally keeping his cool) Calm down, man. You're embarrassing yourself.

Drives away. Oh how I love my husband.

Disclaimer: Neither one of us is proud of having turned the wrong-way down a one-way street. We promise we will not do it again. At least for a few weeks.

KIDDING.

(Although did I mention that now, Angry Dad knows both of our cars, AND our baby. Way to go, Dickens family).

Finally, in a third (and final) twist, I happened to tell my friend, Marie, this story. A few days later, she emails me. "Hey Sherri, remember Angry Dad? Turns out that's my friend Bob."

Oops.

Disclaimer: Don't be like us. We are impatient, rule-breaking drivers, not to mention very imperfect Christians. I hope you'll cut us some slack. Unless you're Angry Dad. Who, hopefully, does not read this blog.

New Office Mate

2011-04-14T10:25:00.000-07:00

Did I mention that I have a new office mate?

(He's kind of weird, but he's also pretty cute, so I guess he can stay.)

Clearly, I am so busy and important, with many files to staple.
While my arm is at a really awkward angle.

Of course.

When we found out in December that John was going to be working from home, people immediately started asking me things like:

"Oh, won't that be AWFUL?"

"But he'll be around ALL DAY!"

"He'll be watching everything you're doing.!" (WHAT?! You mean he'll know that I'm in sweats all day?! He'll see that I eat a mid-morning breakfast of brownies?! He'll know that I watch episodes of Teen Mom 2 during lunch?!?)

But you know what? I married a guy that I LOVE to be around. As much as possible. So it's literally been awesome.

(Despite the fact that he asks me to dial phone numbers for him about 97 times a day.)

(Or the fact that, since the trashcan is on my side of the office, he asks me to throw things away for him about 97 times a day.)

(Does that make me a secretary/janitor? I may need a raise.)

(Or the fact that we actually fought over the tape dispenser's placement in the room last week.)

(Or the fact that I just noticed that said tape dispenser has magically made it's way onto my desk......hmmmmmmm.)

But still. Mostly awesome. On a different note, Ally Grace is going to fly on an airplane for the very first time tomorrow morning! I'm pretty sure it's a toss-up over who's going to freak out more: me or her.

(Never mind, that's easy. It's definitely going to be me. John may or may not have his hands full.)

Feel free to pray for us.

Brownies, Pinkeye, and Toddlers in Tiaras

2011-04-12T11:06:00.000-07:00

What is it about a certain week during every month that makes me want to eat all the chocolate I can get my hands on?

(Including 2 brownies, right before going to work out, no less.)

(WHY do I think this is okay?!)

(Um, I don't. But somehow I manage to do it anyway.)

So, last week was crazy, folks. For realz. AG, John, and I went to Panama City with my parents. And as per usual, I did not post my whereabouts on the blog, because I’m ~~a paranoid psycho~~ careful like that.

Btw, do you know when it’s really fun to go to Panama City?
NOT when it’s Spring Break.

And (while we’re on the subject) do you know what’s really fun about Spring Break?
NOT being called “ma’am” in the elevator by some high school girl.

Finally, do you know where it’s super fun to have pinkeye?
NOT AT THE BEACH.

Now, I’m not sure how many of you have ever had pinkeye, but let me tell you the worst part about it:

(Besides the part where no one wants to hug you and people avoid you like the plague because they don’t want to get it)

NOT WEARING CONTACTS.

And guess where it’s fun to wear your glasses constantly? Again, NOT AT THE BEACH. Or anywhere, for that matter.

(Although I may have started a super stylish fashion trend by wearing my sunglasses on TOP of my real glasses, while laying out.)

(NO.)

We had a great time, although AG still hates the sand. Which actually worked in my favor for getting her to stay on the blanket while mommy got her tan on.

In other news from last week, Ally Grace officially booked her first modeling job! It’s kind of a random story.

(Then again, what else is new around here?)

My friend Jessica’s dad works for a company that manufactures baby products. They were doing a casting call, so Jessica told me to submit some pics of AG. Unfortunately, the most recent pictures I have of her include the many masterpieces that I have taken on my iphone, and then posted on this blog. Oh well.

I sent a few in, and then promptly forgot all about it. A few weeks later, I get this rather urgent text and voicemail from the casting director, asking me to PLEASE bring AG in for a test shoot the next day. I’m all, okay, I guess we can. We’re not really doing anything else tomorrow morning. Should be fun.

(Or frightening, in the way of Toddlers and Tiaras. We shall see.)

The next day, my friend Kristin and I head to the test shoot. We walk in, and immediately are faced with a kind of ~~scary~~ intense mom.

Scary Stage Mom: Oh, what has your daughter been featured on?

Me: Um, my iphone, her grandmother’s fridge, and my facebook page.

Scary Stage Mom: Well, MY SON has been on six boxes AND the website for such and such. He’s a total pro. And your little girl better back OFF b/c he’s got this locked DOWN.

(Okay, maybe I made that last part up, but she totally said it with her eyes.)

The other moms were busy gelling and moussing their kids hair, while I looked in the diaper bag for the hairbrush that, oh yeah, we DON’T HAVE. I got my mom-spit on and made the best of it.

Later, as we were playing with AG and waiting our turn, she runs over to Scary Stage Mom. Now, I’m NOT SAYING SHE TRIPPED HER, but somehow AG lands on the floor.

And starts bawling.

And then they call our name.

Of course.

Somehow, she calms down between the waiting room and the photo shoot, and manages to be all cute little smiles. Later that day, we got a call that she was booked for the actual product shoot on the following Monday. Which basically ended up being kind of like playgroup, except with a baby hairstylist and cameras.

(Never mind, our playgroup totally has cameras.)

Here’s a photo of AG’s baby French twist….I think these are going to be all the rage this summer:

Enjoy it now, girl, because after being in PCB for Spring Break, you're never allowed to go to Prom. Or date. Or even talk to boys in general.

I'm sure you'll be very popular in high school.

Here's the front view. Just chillin in her white and khaki.

Okay, this has nothing to do with my story, but I just loved her outfit so much that I secretly wanted a grown-up version for myself.

Happy Tuesday!! (It IS Tuesday, right?)

Let's Get Physical....

2011-04-01T11:41:00.000-07:00

(....in the 80's jazzercise way, and not the creeper-ish way I just realized that sounded.)

Anyway, earlier this week, I had to go to the doctor and get an actual physical. My first physical since, oh, my pee-wee cheerleading days.

(And if you don't know what pee-wee cheerleading is, then I feel sad for you.)

Prior to my appointment, I get a phone call from the doctor's office, that goes a little something like this:

Nurse: You have to fast from midnight until your appointment time, so we can draw blood.
Me: And by "fast" you mean, I can have some crackers and maybe a bowl of cereal, right?

Nurse: Um no. You cannot have anything to eat. ANYTHING.
Me: What about my coffee?

Nurse: Sure, you can have coffee.....
Me: Oh good, because I'm seriously addicted and can't live without it--

Nurse: .....as long as it's black.
Me: BLACK COFFEE??? Are you serious!? WHY would I do that to myself? Why do you hate me?!?!?!

(Rash).

I arrived at 9:30 with my coffee all made up just the way I like it (or as John says, tasting like a donut), ready to down it, as soon as my bloodwork is over. I asked the nurse if I could even start chugging while she was taking my blood.

Nurse's response? "Girl, that is so SAD."

No shame here. At least I'm not addicted to something REALLY bad. Like reality tv.

Oh wait.

Anyway, the doctor was great, and everything went well....until he looked in my left ear. After which he told me that my ear is about 80% blocked with earwax.

(So THAT must be why I can't hear John when he tells me not to go to Target. Hmmmmmm......)

I tell the doctor that can't be possible, b/c I use q-tips to clean out my ears every single day. I am clearly the very picture of perfect ear health.

Well, according to the doctor, q-tips are the devil, b/c they just shove the wax all the way down into your ear canal, permanently blocking things.

(What's that? You're gagging on your computer, while being appalled at my oversharing abilities? Clearly you're new around here.)

The doctor is all, no worries....Nurse Renee here will be your ENT for the day--she'll get it out for you.

The look on Nurse Renee's face may or may not have been slightly less than thrilled.

I'll spare you the details of what happened next, because I'm sweet like that. I DID sneak over to the trashcan after Nurse Renee left, to see if I could snap a photo of my ear trophy for John's viewing enjoyment.

Or, for the blog's viewing enjoyment......

JUST KIDDING...people, I do have SOME boundaries. Boundaries that include not digging into a medical waste bin.

Which is really saying something.

18(ish) Months

2011-03-28T12:24:00.000-07:00

Well, it's happened again. Let's not act surprised though, shall we? I mean, it was only a matter of time til I blog-slacked. Again. And the sad thing is, I have SO MANY INTERESTING THINGS TO SAY.

No.

But I do have things to say. So, that'll work, right?

Let's hope.

First and most importantly, Ally Grace is (nearly) 18 months old! And I am actually hitting a milestone that most moms blog about, instead of something random like 13.3 months and six days.

Dear Ally Grace,

You're so much fun these days! You're also super exhausting these days. Or maybe it's the pollen. Or maybe it's the blood sugar crash that I have after downing a bag of truffles. One or the other.

You're obviously such a tomboy. If only we could get you to like girly things.
Oh wait.

I love, love, love hearing you call out for "mama" and "daddy." You also love to say "mere." Which I've decided is baby talk for "come here." You like to deviously distract me from diaper changes by sweetly holding out your arms and saying "mere, mama." It makes me hug you about 17 times per diaper change.

So, it's totally working for you, girl.

Your favorite toys are still your "book-uhs." You will literally scream for your "book-uh" the MOMENT I get you up in the morning, and dissolve into the cutest tears ever if I don't get it for you right away. I thought about getting you a baby kindle, but I'm not sure they make those.

I'm also not sure you can actually read, so....

Your other favorite toy is your "dub-uh duh." Aka, the bunny that you sleep with every night. I've nicknamed him Dubs (like the ghetto fabulous baby toy that he clearly wants to be).

You've started putting sentences together, which always stops us in our tracks. The other day, you said "that's my daddy." And then, "I want my mama." And we were all, DID YOU HEAR THAT?!!?!?! SHE IS A BABY GENIUS.

Apparently we have a tendency to get overexcited.

Future fashionista on board!

One of your favorite words is a very emphatic "NO!" Clearly John says that too much, and totally needs to work on this.

(Okay, fine. Maybe that's me. But in my defense, what else are you supposed to say to the toddler who's trying to help you unload the butcher knife from the dishwasher? Or just the toddler who's ripping apart my US Weekly? I rest my case.)

You are honestly the sweetest, smiliest, happiest little girl, and we could NOT possibly love you more.
Unless you managed to potty-train yourself. I might love you just a little bit more if you could do that.

Happy 17 month and 20th day birthday....oh wait.....

Things That Make Me Happy...

2011-03-08T13:31:00.000-08:00

...productivity, stainless steel wipes, Anthropologie, and lavender-scented dryer sheets.

Things that make me unhappy....a certain printer company, who, if I were nice, would remain nameless, but after 5 days of getting the run-around by said printer company (whose name starts with an "H" and ends with a "P"....oops), I am so over being nice.

So over it.

(Although my version of mean is sadly un-scary and un-intimidating, and probably makes people want to laugh.)

Let me tell you something else that makes me slightly unhappy (if by "slightly," I mean "ragingly"): Talking to Dot in Arkansas for multiple rounds of technical support. (Really, HP? REALLY? Dot in Arkansas?!)

Multiple rounds of technical support.

On a brand-new printer.

That we purchased less than a week ago.

It also makes me rather unhappy to hear Dot in Arkansas tell me to "please hold, while I research the problem."

REALLY, DOT?! I KNOW HOW TO WORK THE GOOGLE TOO, AND YOU'RE NOT GONNA FIND ANY ANSWERS, DOT! WIKIPEDIA ISN'T GONNA TELL YOU HOW TO FIX THIS. QUIT "INSTRUCTING" ME TO TURN MY COMPUTER ON AND OFF. I WOULD THROW THIS PRINTER OUT THE WINDOW IF I COULD PICK IT UP AND GET SOME GOOD MOMENTUM GOING! BUT SINCE THAT'S DOUBTFUL, I'M GONNA YELL AT YOU IN ALL CAPS, DOT!

Like the sassy consumer that I am. Try not to be too scared, now.

Decide for Yourselves.....

2011-03-03T07:50:00.000-08:00

You decide....cute or scary?

(And by scary, I'm not referring to the freakishly long nature of my toes.)

(Or the fact that I'm supposed to be working, and instead am taking pictures of my scary finger-toes and putting them on the world-wide web.)

Also, I'll give you a helpful hint, just like I do with John sometimes: I'm only looking for opinions that will tell me this is cute. Because it's too late. It's like asking, "What do you think of my new bangs?" Because if anyone says something like, "wow, that's really only a look that Heidi Klum can pull off," you might find it slightly to very upsetting.

So. Just tell me the green toes are cute, and not as Jolly Green Giant as they appear at the moment. Definitely do not tell me that 30-year old mothers shouldn't wear green toenail polish.

Even if it may or may not be true.

Baby Bangs

2011-02-28T11:13:00.000-08:00

Dear baby bangs,

I hate you.

(Disclaimer: this is NOT in reference to the blog, Baby Bangs, which I actually love. And ~~stalk~~ read religiously. And maybe perhaps daydream about being friends with Amanda, Beth Moore's daughter. Who probably hates being referred to as "Beth Moore's daughter." )

So, what was I saying? Oh yes. Baby bangs, you're awful. Why do you insist upon torturing new moms with random hairs that stick STRAIGHT OUT of our heads? Like, at a 45-degree angle? Right where our hair parts....I mean, that's just unnecessary.

And for that matter, why are you still sticking around sixteen months after I had a baby?!?! I mean, a few months, I can deal with. No one feels pretty right after having a baby (and if you do, there may be something wrong with you, and we cannot be friends). What's one more thing? I mean, add it to the hemorrhoids, cankles, and spare tire around the middle. I can take it.

But it's been a year and a half! PLEASE. GO AWAY.

My flatiron can't even tame you, and at 400 degrees of straightening power, that's really saying something.

(And maybe I should examine why I think it's okay to burn my hair at 400 degrees on the regular.)

(And while I'm at it, I should examine why I think it's okay to say things like "on the regular." I'm not Usher. Or Justin Bieber.)

So, while I appreciate you trying to keep me humble by making me look crazy all the time, I do not need your help. I promise.

I've got more than enough crazy to go around.

Valentine's Day and Christmas

2011-02-17T08:32:00.000-08:00

What? It's not like they're months apart or anything.

Oh wait. But they both involve the color red, so I think that makes it work.

Right?

(Let's be honest, who even cares at this point? Just the fact that I have some time to blog right now is nothing short of miraculous. Maybe I should try to cover St. Patty's Day too, while I'm actually on here.)

So, we'll start with Valentine's Day. I hope you all had a wonderful day, full of romance, flowers, and most importantly, those large heart-shaped boxes of candy....my own personal favorite. My V-day was a little less exciting. It started a few weeks before during a conversation with John that went something like this:

John: Hey babe, I'm so sorry, but I'm going to be out of town for work on Valentine's Day.

Me: Bahahahaha, that's hilarious. Nice try, but I know you're just trying to surprise me with some fun Valentine's Day date. Where are we going?

John: Um....no really. I have meetings in LA all day....

Sherri: ....AND YOU'RE TAKING ME WITH YOU! YAY! I CAN'T WAIT TO SPEND V-DAY CELEBRITY STALKING. I mean, in LA with you, of course.

John: Yeah....no. I really have to be there for work, and I really can't take you with me.

Sherri: Well, what idiot planned meetings on Valentine's day?!

John: That would be this idiot.

Oops.

So, we celebrated with a baby-free weekend, the weekend BEFORE Valentine's Day. John re-created our first date--in which we went to South City Kitchen (where I daintily stuffed my face with a plateful of fried chicken.) Then, on to the Whole World Theatre for some improv comedy. (Where I prayed like crazy that they wouldn't pull me up on stage and make me do something embarrassing.) Then, on to Krispy Kreme, where I, once again, stuffed my face (daintily, of course) with some glazed donuts.

Clearly, every fun night should end with donuts and a super stylish hat.

(A super-stylish hat that he made me wear all the way home. Nice.)

He also was very sweet, and surprised me with a trip to one of my favorite stores (starting with an "Anthro" and ending with a "pologie") to help me pick out a little treat. I had to laugh at him and this other poor guy, miserably sitting on a little sofa, waiting for their women to come out of the dressing rooms.

(I may or may not have prolonged my trying-on experience just to see what a trooper he was. I'm sweet like that.)

Anyway, since I was ALL ALONE on the actual Valentine's day (John, are you reading this? Don't feel bad or anything), I may or may not have rewarded myself with some candy. And some lattes. And a spin class (oh wait, that wasn't actually a reward, now that I think about it). And watching lots of my favorite shows on tivo. In my sweats.

It was kinda awesome.

Now, on to my Christmas recap. I figure since we still have Christmas lights on the front of our house, this is totally acceptable, right?

(Wrong. In more ways than one.)

Regardless, here's a quick recap, list style:

1. First Christmas at home as a family! Like, ever. Well, ever in the last 6 years. And it snowed on Christmas day for the first time in about 100 years. Amazing.

2. AG actually got to open and enjoy some presents. Although, let's be honest, she really enjoyed the wrapping paper and boxes.

Pure Christmas Cuteness

Her new music set. And I'm pretty sure she hit herself in the head with the maraca, right after this picture.
Oh sweet, Christmas memories.

3. John and I were ~~old farts~~ mature adults and got ourselves a Christmas gift that we needed. Yes. The rest of our dining room chairs. Perhaps you can tell this wasn't my idea?

4. John then surprised me with a Christmas morning scavenger hunt.....

I will not even tell you how long it took me to figure this clue out, because I'm embarrassed.
Let's just say, a bit longer than it should have.

.......that lead to ~~the new love of my life~~ my Kindle!

Why yes. That's me, sleeping with my kindle.
And yes. It was my sweet, kind husband who took this lovely picture of me.

At least I wasn't drooling.

Happy Christmas-tine's Day!

Lately...

2011-02-07T12:40:00.000-08:00

....my life has been nuts. Seriously, nuts. Think, a little something like this:

....wake up....feed AG, play with AG while negotiating three different contracts for three different clients....try to sufficiently wear AG out so she will nap longer than 5 minutes (unlike today)....work, work, work, throw about 15 loads of laundry in at once in an effort to save time.....clean up the toys in the living room for the 14th time in one day, while wondering when AG will start to understand the concept of "helping mommy cleanup".....try to figure out dinner for AG....wonder if string cheese and chicken nuggets will cut it....again. Put her to bed.....try to figure out dinner for us.....wonder if string cheese and chicken nuggets will cut it...again. Fall on the couch in sheer exhaustion and decide to zone out in front of an episode of Hellcats.....(it's the Vampire Diaries of 2011. At least for me).

Are you jealous? Yeah, didn't think so. And any ideas on how to clone yourself?

I did actually make it to a Superbowl Party last night. Apparently, I was a Steelers fan, thanks to an extra jersey that Kristin brought me. And the fact that I liked their colors better. Which is a totally appropriate way to decide which team to root for.

Also, I hate the word root. It reminds me of high school, where NO LIE, someone decided it was cool to start saying "Oh my root" instead of "oh my gosh."

And by someone I do NOT mean me.

(And I would never admit it if it was.)

(Although it wasn't.)

(Promise.)

Blogging Slump

2011-01-25T08:16:00.000-08:00

Hi, my name's Sherri, and I am in a blogging slump.

What do you people do when you don't feel like blogging? And it's not that I don't want to, it's just that I don't have anything interesting to say. I mean, I could make something up, like last night I got glammed up, went out and ran into Reese Witherspoon, who told me she liked my outfit.

NO.

Not only do celebrities hide from me (as they have sixth sense that I would do something rash like attach myself to their leg, while begging them to be my friend), but I have apparently been wearing the same outfit for about 6 days straight. As noted by John, when I came downstairs this morning and he was all "OH. You're wearing your mom-uniform. Again."

I do believe having a "mom-uniform" automatically disqualifies me from anyone's definition of glam. Stacy and Clinton are probably in hiding on my doorstep, about to bust up in here and give me a whole new wardrobe.

(Now THAT would be blog-worthy.)

I promise to be back shortly. And now that it's the end of January, I can tell you about our Christmas and New Years.

I'm nothing if not super prompt and on top of things.

Snow Days. Not Quite As Much Fun As They Used To Be

2011-01-13T11:47:00.000-08:00

In case you live in a cave or under a rock, the southeast is experiencing one of the worst snowstorms it's ever had.

That's based on no actual facts, mind you, just my observation that I HAVE BEEN HOUSEBOUND FOR 4 ENTIRE DAYS.

(Also, that's a rash statement, because I actually HAVE gone to friends houses, Starbucks, and the gym. And no, not in that order. Although, don't think I wouldn't be the girl on the treadmill with my latte in the cupholder. I totally would. Caffeine makes you run faster, right? Right.)

Apparently, when the news anchors tell everyone to stay in your home, or risk freezing to death on the side of the interstate, I think they must not be talking to me. Having lived in Georgia all my life, clearly my snow-driving skills are stellar.

Can I also let you know that the weekend before the blizzard of the century (aka "6 inches of snow and Atlanta shuts down for a week") AG dropped her morning nap? And may I also let you know when people were on facebook raving about how much they were loving their snow days, I wanted to smack them down? Because guess what's NOT fun about a snow day? A baby who doesn't really like snow. And needs to be entertained all morning.

AG is obviously unimpressed. Which may have had something to with not having gloves on.
Or her embarrassment over mommy's camo gloves. One or the other.

In case I'm sounding like a debbie downer, here's what was fun about the snow. Snow Kayaking. Oh yes. It's exactly as redneck as it sounds.

And now a video for your viewing enjoyment:

I'm sure I meant "idiotic" in the most positive and uplifting of ways.

Christmas (Almost)

2011-01-06T13:23:00.000-08:00

Okay, Christmas. Let's do this. I'm ready to recap.

(Actually, let's just pretend that it's still the week before Christmas, okay? Then, I could actually feel like it's not shameful to still have my tree up and the stockings still hung. Or to still be listening to Christmas music on Pandora.)

(NOT that I'm doing that or anything. And I promise that I didn't leave my tree up til February last year.)

(Maybe.)

For me, Christmas of 2010 will always be remembered as the Christmas of "Holy cow, HOW much did we just spend on babysitters?!" I may be quitting my job to start babysitting. Because y'all? They make a small fortune. It's a pretty sweet deal. You know, except for the watching other people's kids part. I'm not sure I could do that.

Oh, just kidding. Mostly.

Anyway on to Christmas! I have decided to tell about our month using pictures, because my poor mind can't remember that far back, plus it's easier. Win-win.

We started off the month with Kristin's graduation party.

It appears that I enjoy highlighting my noodle arms in silly pictures. 

Or maybe just in any picture.

Next up, the Nelson's Christmas party, which had a Christmas Vacation theme....for the boys only.

Awesome. I am all about getting cute, while the boys ~~humiliate themselves~~ entertain us with their outfits.

All the girls....Jenny looked so good that Aspen tried to kiss her in the middle of the picture!

Someone's getting fresh!

Also, someone just said "fresh," like she's about 70 years old.

(Let's overlook that, shall we?)

I really wish John would just come out of his shell a little more.

He clearly has a tendency to be shy.

Next up, my old small group's annual Christmas brunch. AG got in on the photo action.

(Girlfriend can seriously point her toes, am I right?)

A then, a few days before Christmas, Jenny's 30th (shhhhh!) birthday surprise at Cocktails and Canvas:

John's apron was a tad on the short side....just trying to keep him appropriate.

(At which I have lots of experience)

Action shot with the birthday girl--pictures are so much more fun with your mouth hanging open.

Clearly.

So, our friends Brooke and Cole, had to leave early. They asked us to finish their paintings.

The girls were mature, and finished Brooke's photo just like we were supposed to:

The boys on the other hand......

....turned Cole's black lab into a rather disturbing cross between a penguin and a vampire.

A venguin.

Or a pampire.

Yes, I will stop now.

(They've clearly been watching too much Twilight).

Wow. That took longer than I thought, and I'm not even through Christmas morning....and since I have about 34,000 pictures of THAT, I'll save it for the next blog post. And just wait til I post about New Years....

I am all about a cliffhanger.

Neglected

2011-01-05T08:46:00.000-08:00

Dear blog,

I have neglected you. I've been lost in the craziness of Christmas, and the unmotivation/seasonal depression that is January.

I am still here, I promise. And I'm going to overload you with pictures, rash comments, and oversharing the moment life slows down.

I know. You can't wait either.

Love,

Your friend Sherri, whose daughter has decided that she doesn't want to nap anymore, who spent approximately all of her life savings on babysitters during December, and who can't seem to stop eating those Lindt truffles that were in her Christmas stocking.

(Thank you for the extra cellulite, John. I hope you enjoy it.)

Santa

2010-12-18T05:19:00.000-08:00

We took AG to see Santa yesterday. I was pretty scared of what I just knew would be long lines, and a freaking out baby.

(Which secretly I kind of hoped for, b/c the pictures of kids screaming on Santa's lap? Priceless. They make me laugh so hard that I'd seriously better not be eating or drinking anything when I see them. As learned from experience.)

(Also, maybe I shouldn't admit to the blogging world that I hoped AG would cry. But oversharing is what we do here, right? And by "we," clearly I mean "I.")

I am a grinch and hate the mall at Christmas, so when we arrived, it did not amuse me to learn that Santa had taken a lunch break.

Diva.

Fortunately, we only waited in line about 20 minutes before our big moment.

I think she liked him, don't you?

Hey! I like your beard.
(Isn't that a line in a Ke$ha song?)

She may have a thing for older men, b/c she LOVED him.
And I'm totally joking, because she isn't allowed to have "a thing" for any man until she's 37.
Just so we're clear.

Crafty

2010-12-16T10:35:00.000-08:00

Here's what happens when I either A) have too much coffee, or B) am procrastinating. Or (let's be honest here), C) a combination of both.

Are you as afraid as I am? I got all 3rd-grade crafty up on this gift bag.
Who am I?

(No. Really. Who am I?)

As I noted on the bag, no less, clearly I may have too much time on my hands.

And too much coffee in my system.

And probably (hopefully) more important things to be doing than making hot pink Christmas-y gift bags!

*Disclaimer: If you would like a tutorial on how to make a fancy, custom Christmas gift-bag, I am happy to provide one. On the other hand, if you have even a grade-school education, I am sure you can figure it out.

Funny-Looking

2010-12-14T09:03:00.000-08:00

Had a conversation with John this morning that went something like this:

Me: So, what do you think are the chances of Sarah Palin being our next president?
(You know, because I am SO politically-minded that I often speculate about upcoming elections over breakfast.)

(Or not.)

(Ever.)

John: I'd say her chances are about zero. I mean, come on, she has a reality show.
(With clear and obvious disdain for reality shows. Which I take issue with, because there are some really good ones out there. Like, Real Housewives of Atlanta, 16 & Pregnant, and okay, I'll stop now.)

Me: So? I'd be all about having a reality show, you know, if they wanted to show me running around in my sweatpants, taking care of a baby, trying to work, and falling asleep on the couch at 9:30.

(Because who wouldn't tune in for that?)

John: Oh, I'm sure you'd find a way to make it funny-looking.

Well, THANK YOU, HONEY. Clearly my talent in life is making things "funny-looking."
You and AG are so lucky to have me.

Walking, Girls Weekend, and A Question

2010-12-09T08:24:00.000-08:00

A lot has happened in the past week. A LOT.

For starters, my girl started walking! And I just got really tired thinking about what that means for my future. Her preferred method of transportation continues to be crawling, since it's way faster. Not to mention, it's a lot less scary for mommy. Because now that she's walking, she's gotten about 35 bruises in the last 2 days.

Also, I am never known to exaggerate.

In other news, I contracted what is probably my 45th cold this year. (See above, re: "never exaggerating.") But I mean, really? What is the deal? I know I'm a mother to a 1 year-old petri dish of germs, but STILL.

Dear Germs,

GO AWAY. I am tired of snotting all over the place, although it is undoubtedly attractive to my husband. My nose is raw, and that stupid Kleenex with aloe? It DOESN'T WORK.

Did I mention that I don't have time for you? It's Christmas, and I have a toddler.

Go enjoy the holidays in someone else's nose.

Sincerely,
Your latest victim, who is tired of hacking like an 80-year old smoker.

On a much more fun note, I went on a girls weekend last weekend with Steph and Eryn, two of my very best friends from college. We loaded up the car with the essentials--you know, magazines, snacks, and pants with elastic waistbands--and prepared to get our fun on.

(Why can't I stop that? WHY?!?)

Got dorky playing with my iPhone ShakeIt app. But what isn't awesome about shaking it like a polaroid picture? Oh yeah. I did.

Wasn't aware that my eyes were yellow. Apparently, my iPhone thinks I'm a Cullen.

Upon arriving in Blue Ridge, we thought "hey! We may or may not need a few more snacks. Let us stop at the grocery store."

A lady approached us while we were checking out, and goes: "You girls aren't from around here are you?"

Why, what gave it away? The rarely worn puffy jackets? The armloads of candy and tabloid magazines? The fact that I had on peep-toed shoes and it was 32 degrees outside? Hmmmmmmm......

After admitting that we weren't, in fact, "from around here," and were instead from "the city," she goes: "Ummm hmmmm. Thought so. Now, don't you girls go drinking and driving, okay? Wouldn't want y'all to drive off the mountain."

Well, yes. That makes 4 of us. Not really part of our weekend plans. But thanks for the vote of confidence, lady.

This was our view....up on the mountain, which, thankfully, we managed not to "drive off."

It was a fabulous, relaxing, hilarious weekend, full of shopping, reading up on Taylor and Jake (and what I believe to be a totally fake, publicist-driven relationship, but that's another post entirely), and eating things I could never get away with at home. I loved every minute!

And then, clearly, I loved coming home to this:

Although, apparently my iPhone also thinks John visited a Mystic Tan booth while I was gone.
For the record, he is NOT orange.

Finally, blog friends, if you made it to the end of this rash, rambling post, I have a question for you. What are you getting the men in your lives for Christmas? I'm talking husbands, boyfriends, brothers, fathers, and fathers-in-law.

I'm really good at girl presents. I mean really good. Here's my strategy: find something I love, talk myself out of buying it for myself, take it home and wrap it. Talk myself out of keeping it for myself, and give it to the woman I bought it for. Hope that she will eventually want to let me borrow it. See, easy?

Somehow, I don't think any of the men in my life would enjoy an Anthropologie top, or a gift card to Lululemon. Help!

Some Thoughts for Your Thursday (It IS Thursday, Right?)

2010-12-02T12:23:00.000-08:00

1. Leggings are amazing. As are fake uggs, or "fuggs" as I like to call them.

(Now, John would probably beg to differ with me on both of those comments. However. I maintain that leggings are much more socially acceptable than sweatpants, yet still allow me the comfort of an elastic waistband. Highly important.)

2. I am in love with Starbucks's Peppermint Mocha. IN LOVE. And don't even get me started on my feelings for the cranberry bliss bars. I literally feared for the cashier's life when he told me that they were out today.

Don't get between me and my cranberry bliss bars.

3. Here is further proof of my OCDness. As if we needed any more after the stainless steel wipes insanity.

Yes. That is our Christmas tree.

Which was put up in November.

Ask me when it made it's Christmas debut last year?

Oh, about Christmas Eve.

I have no idea what has happened to me.

Although I do know that my arm is apparently about 37 feet long.

Grocery Store

2010-11-30T09:15:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I did something brave. I went to the grocery store.

With a full shopping list.

WITH Ally Grace.

Right before naptime.

(You're feeling a little nervous for me, aren't you?)

We were doing alright, actually. I was speeding through the store like I was on that random show where people run around the grocery store, throwing stuff in their cart, trying to finish in the least amount of time. What was that show called?

Also, am I eighty years-old?

After about 20 minutes, I can sense that AG is reaching a certain pre-fussiness stage. You moms know what I'm talking about. I reach into the cart and hand her a random box to play with. To avoid the inevitable meltdown phase.

And guess what? It works!! She's clutching that box in a death grip, like it's her new favorite toy.

I notice a few people looking at us as they pass by. And I'm all, oh AG really does look so cute in her little outfit. They're totally noticing how cute she is. Wait, that lady just gave me a pretty weird look. I mean, I'm not looking great, but at least I'm not in sweatpants. (Yoga pants are clearly different than sweatpants, right?.)

At which point I look down to realize that AG is now chewing on a box of tampons.

At least it wasn't condoms.

13.5 Months

2010-11-22T13:57:00.000-08:00

Dear Ally Grace,

You’re 13.5 months old! I know, I know, most moms do this at major milestones, like 12 or 18 months. Some moms even do this every single month….all I can say is, you clearly don’t have most moms.

(Unless “most moms” include those who watch the Real Housewives of Atlanta, eat too much candy, and are a little OCD about stainless steel wipes.)

(I’m sure there are others like me out there.)

(Right?!)

You DO have a mom who loves you like crazy. And may or may not embarrass you in the future.

(Secretly, I sort of look forward to that.)

Anyway, you are SO big these days! (Literally, SO big. My arm is starting to go numb when I carry you around…if you could just start walking, that would be great.)

(On the other hand, if you could just stop the growing up, that would be great too.)

(Confusing.)

It seems like you just woke up the other day saying about 37 new words. Some of your favorites:

Mama (clearly)
Dada
JaJa (Jackson)
Baby
Uh-oh
Ribbit
Please
Grrrr (okay, I know it’s not an actual word, but it’s so darn cute to watch her point to a bear and go “grrr,” that I had to include it. Another favorite is “baaaa.”)

And I can’t think of any other words, even though I know there are more. Which is what happens when you forget to blog for 2 weeks.

Your LOVE reading books…..hallelujah! You will crawl into my lap with a book, and make me read it to you. Over and over.

And over.

Your favorite book is Brown Bear, Brown Bear. Or as you call it: “Grrrrrr, Grrrrrr.” Sometimes I have to hide it just so you’ll do something else for a few minutes.

(Or because mommy has it memorized, and by the 37th time she reads it, wants to literally poke her eyes out.)

You also really love to dance. You come by that honestly, since your dad and I will clearly one day be the embarrassing old people on the dance floor, trying to “get down with the young folk.”

(This will definitely happen at your wedding.)

(A little something to look forward to.)

You’re eating all regular people food, drinking whole milk, and almost, almost walking! You love your push Disney Princess car, and will push it until you run into something. At which point you look up at me and say, “uh oh.” Totally and completely adorable.

You are so fun these days! And just when I think it can’t get better, it does. Like today, when I found a little mini-dreadlock matted into the back of your hair.

I mean, it doesn’t really get more fun than that.

(You may be sporting some baby dreads this Thanksgiving.)

I love you, you little 13.5 month old presh!

Love,
Your adoring mother, who sometimes acts crazy, and may occasionally come up with some weird meal combinations, but at the end of the day, will do absolutely anything for you.

Including cutting off your baby dreadlock.

Maybe.

Octoberween-ish, with Some Beach and Other Stuff

2010-11-12T13:18:00.000-08:00

Last week, out of nowhere, AG literally started doing baby sign-language. And I was all, OH MY GOSH, LOOK AT MY BABY GIRL!!! MY MOTHERING SKILLS MUST BE SO AMAZING!!

(No).

I mean, I had only worked on sign language a handful of times before I got ~~lazy~~ ~~inconsistent~~ distracted (by something important, I'm sure). AG must literally be a baby genius to have picked it up so quickly.

While picking AG up from preschool on Tuesday, I casually mentioned her new skillz to her teacher. Who then promptly told me that they had been working baby sign language for the last few months, and HOW EXCITING that Ally Grace was finally picking it up!

Ahem.

But none of that really has to do with the last month, which I am about to boldly recap in list form. I might even do something rash and throw letters in with the numbers.

I'm crazy like that.

After AG's bday party, we went on a beach trip with the Bagwells. It was awesome! And hopefully they still want to hang out with us, even though I managed to be a grandma and fall asleep at 9:30 every night.

Look how ~~crazy~~ brave we were, with all 3 kids!

I love how AG's all "haaaaayyyyy, girl, what's up?"

The boys got to have swinging contests.......

And the girls got to play on the seesaw......

....right before THIS happened. (No baby was harmed in the making of this picture. Although a certain mommy may or may not have run over screaming, WHAT DID YOU DO!?!? After picking herself up off the ground of course, b/c what you didn't see was Sherri on her rear end on the other side).

The trip was awesome, and we loved every minute....thanks for having us, Betsy and Brad!

By the way, the day we left the beach was our SIXTH anniversary! Sitting in the car with a baby who is not shy about letting us know she's unhappy in her car seat is JUST the way we imagined spending it.

Or not.

But we DID get to go out on a date that night at Craftbar. (Much better anniversarying, in my opinion.)

Bahahaha, do you not love the painting behind us?! My favorite part is how the cow seems to be sniffing my hair. That's some artful picture-taking, my friend.

After that, we ended up at the movie Life As We Know It. Which, in spite of John's constant boo-hooing, was great.

(Wait, what? That wasn't John?

I really can't remember exactly what happened.)

Finally, at the end of October, my brother-in-law, got married! It was a beautiful wedding, the bride and groom looked amazing, and the band did a really awesome rendition of "Low." Unfortunately, I have NO pictures from the night, except this one that Jenny took:

I promise we're not being creepers, Kerie was actually just days away from delivering Mary Sloan, and we were trying to coax her to come out and join the fun.

And how could I FORGET Halloween?

We dressed AG up as an adorable little monkey, and then used her cuteness to scam our neighbors out of Halloween candy.

Muahahahahahaha.

And let's just be honest, here's what I mainly did last month:

This little, almost-walking, presh takes up all my time these days, but is so incredibly worth it.

Whew, what else?! It was such a busy month. I apparently got overwhelmed with everything I wanted to blog about, and decided to cope by watching tivoed episodes of Private Practice and Vampire Diaries.

(Which is obviously efficient, and probably the very key to handling stress.)

I promise to do better this month, blog-readers. I'll make sure to keep you updated on the fun and exciting happenings of my life. Like the other day, when this girl was like, oh I could never pull off your outfit, but it's so cute on you, which I am pretty sure really means, your outfit is butt ugly and I wouldn't be caught dead wearing it.

Yeah. Exciting things like that.

(And I just realized that this list thing never happened. My apologies to all you list-lovers out there.)

Did You Know.....

2010-11-05T14:27:00.000-07:00

.....that our newly opened local Costco sells Rock and Republic jeans for EIGHTY-EIGHT dollars!?!?!?!
I might have had a hot flash while looking at them. And I'm not sure why that would even make sense, but I said it, and I'm leaving it.

When I told John that $88 for R&R's was about the same as giving them away on the corner for free, he didn't buy it. Nor did he fail to notice when I casually tried to sneak them into the cart.

WHY are men so perceptive when it's inconvenient?

I have a LONG blog post coming soon. Involving all of October. I know this makes you want to either
A) wait excitedly for me to quit being so lazy and upload some pictures
or
B) run for the hills, because we all know I can get my word on.

Yes, I embarrass myself.

Happy Friday!

First Birthday, Martha-Style

2010-10-25T19:26:00.000-07:00

First of all, I would like to let you all know that AG is experiencing her first stomach bug. Which means I am experiencing my first showdown with baby vomit. And it's kicking my butt.

Obviously, I deserve a little treat, so I'm sitting here blogging and watching Vampire Diaries.

And obviously, I am very mature.

Anyway, even though AG's first birthday is way over (I mean, she's practically almost 2 by now), I wanted to make sure I posted some pictures of her first birthday party.

(At least it's still her birthday month, am I right, people?)

Disclaimer: What you will see in the following photos is in no way a true representation of my Martha-skillz. It is, instead, a representation of fantastic family and friends who made food, helped me decorate, shared cake-lady numbers with me, and just generally made the party awesome.

It is also a representation of several stressful hours in Hobby Lobby, also known as my idea of a nightmare.

AG can never doubt my love for her after this.

If you think you've seen this before, you have. I saw it on Kelly's Korner for Harper's birthday, and just had to re-create it. Unfortunately, that meant sounding like a major creeper when explaining to John that this idea came from a girl whose blog I stalk.

I went temporarily insane and decided that these tissue paper balls were a good idea.

Unfortunately, I'm not good (or terrible) at making them.

Thankfully, Sara took over so I could quit accidentally ripping this poor, defenseless tissue paper into a gazillion pieces.

Here's our sassy little star of the day!

If I could get away with pretending I made this myself, don't think I wouldn't do it.

But those of you who know me would know that to be impossible, so I guess I'll be honest.

All of AG's grandparents got in on the birthday action.

Quite a few of AG's "not actually related, but will spoil her rotten" aunts were able to be there.

Btw, do not ask what I'm wearing. I realized after planning a Georgia themed birthday party, that I apparently no longer wear red and black.

(I bleed it though).

(I'm officially out for that).

Anyway, when John saw my outfit, he was like, um, isn't this supposed to be a tailgate party? Wear something you would actually wear to a game.

And then, I was like, sweetie, I would totally have worn this to a game. Did they even have football at Furman?

(Aw, snap.)

We finally gave AG her cake....and we took this really great video of the moment. Unfortunately, I have now unsuccessfully tried to upload it about 37 times, and am so irritated that I’m giving it up. Because I really don't want to be forced to throw my computer out the window.

(Although then maybe I could get a mac.....hmmmmmmm.)

I'll pray for some patience and try again tomorrow.

Tagged

2010-10-18T09:05:00.000-07:00

So, I have about 37 different things I want to write about, but apparently can't manage to get my blog on more than once a week.
Although, clearly I can manage to use embarrassing phrases like "get my blog on."

In the next few days, I will get my blog on (see, I can't stop) about AG's first birthday, a fun trip to the beach with the Bagwells, and our SIXTH anniversary! You may even get to hear about AG's 1 year pediatrician appointment.

Try not to die of excitement in the meantime.

For now, though, my friend Melanie at "Mel’s Coffee Break," has tagged me in a blog post. I've never been tagged before, so I hope I get this right. Basically, she asked me the following 7 questions, and then in turn, I get to ask 7 other bloggers, 7 new questions. I'm looking at you, blog friends. I'm about to get my tag on.

Stop, Sherri. Just stop.

1. What is your life slogan / verse / motto?
Zephaniah 3:17—The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you. He will quiet you with His love. He will rejoice over you with singing.

(Btw, that was a paraphrase. I hope I didn't just misquote the Bible.)

2. What one piece of advice would you give to your "younger" self if you could?
Just say no to perms, bangs, and acid-washed jeans. Oh, and those boys you liked? They really aren’t all that great compared to who you end up with.

3. What do you enjoy most about blogging?
Probably just sharing my randomness with the few people who care to read. And keeping up with things that are going on in life. Since my journaling attempts tend to last, oh maybe a day at best.

4. Do you have any dreams that have been on the back-burner that you still would like to achieve?
I’m kind of embarrassed to answer this question. But I’ve always wanted to write a book. Despite no knowledge of how to do so, and the fact that my only qualification is that I like to READ books.

Also, I’ve always wanted to be one of Justin Timberlake’s backup dancers.

I think both of these dreams fall somewhere between highly unlikely and completely impossible.

5. What is something new you would like to learn?
I’d really love to learn how to sew. And if you knew me in college, or really just at any point in my life, you probably just fell off your chair laughing. But, I do like to create things, and although I am not very Martha-inclined, maybe I could save myself some $$ when I need curtains.

6. What is something about you that we would be surprised to learn?
I was the spelling bee champion of my elementary school. I won with the word “gubernatorial.”

7. If you found $100 bill, (lucky you!) what would you buy?
I should probably say something selfless, like diapers or baby clothes. But in reality, I would head straight to the nearest Anthropologie.
Hey, just being honest here.

Okay, so now I make up seven new questions, and tag seven new bloggers. So I can get my tag on, and you can get your blog on.

(I promise not to ever say that again. Maybe.)

I'm tagging:

Caroline at O-Baby
Betsy at Three B's in a Pod
Candace at The Smith Faily
Kelly at The Denbow Family
Jenny at The Ostensons
Kimberly at The Nelsons
Sara at One More Thing

And girls, your questions to answer are:

1. What's your most embarrassing moment?

2. How did you meet your husband/fiance?

3. What is one thing you would change about yourself, if you had the chance?

4. What is your biggest pet peeve?

5. What's your favorite word? (Mine's "satchel," in case you were wondering.)

6. What is your favorite place in the world? Be specific.

7. If you could re-name yourself, what name would you pick?

Did I do this right, Melanie? Thanks for tagging me, girl. It was fun!

Happy 1st Birthday, AG!

2010-10-08T19:59:00.000-07:00

Dear Ally Grace,

At 5:03 on October 8th, 2009, you changed my life forever.

(Well, really it was nine months before, when you started making me want to barf all day, every day. But let's not split hairs, shall we?)

(Excuse me, what do you have to be upset about?

Clearly, I'm the one who should've been crying.)

I tried to find this sassy nightgown to wear to your birthday party.

You know, for old times sake.

I can't believe we made it through our first year! I was literally terrified (what's that? You didn't notice? So sweet.) of all things motherhood--from holding you, to changing your diaper, to feeding you.

Let's face it. God is good.

One day you'll read this blog, and you'll probably think several things. Like, "my mom is really random and prone to oversharing." Or, "she sure does talk about cupcakes a lot." Or even "jeez, she watches some truly bad tv."

But what I really want you to think is "wow, she's insanely crazy about me."

(In the good way, of course).

And in case I'm not around to say it (annnd, why am I talking about this?! I blame Katherine Heigl and Josh Duhmel, and their dumb movie coming out that makes me cry every single time I see the preview), I want you to know that you and your dad have made my life amazing. In more ways than one.

Happy birthday little presh!

Oh, Mexico

2010-10-06T14:15:00.000-07:00

First of all, I have to say a HUGE thank you to my friend, neighbor, and apparent blog-reader, Lindsey! She left an adorable UGA cheerleading uniform on my front steps while we were on vacation, and it was SUCH a fun surprise to come home to! Thanks to you, Lindsey, I no longer have to craft a uniform out of garbage bags and tissue paper.

Is this not adorable? And if you think there won't be a gazillion pictures of AG in this uniform, then you would be wrong.

It's hard to write about our trip to Mexico without wanting to drop everything and move there immediately. Because it's an amazing place. Well, except for the drug cartels.

Fortunately, we didn't see any of those. (Although I did ask John maybe 100 times if we were going to get kidnapped or something. While checking the State Dept website. And reading the Mexico travel warning about 27 times. I'm sure this was adorable, and not at all annoying.)

Thanks to a job with some sweet perks, John and I got to go to Playa del Carmen for 6 days, ALL EXPENSES PAID. Excuse me, WHAT?! Yes, you read that correctly. Some company actually makes it's employees go to a gorgeous, 5-star, all-inclusive resort for WORK. There is actually a guy (sadly, not John) whose job it is to scout locations for company retreats. Which means, he gets to travel to these ridiculous, exotic locales, let's say it together, shall we? For WORK.

Not that I'm jealous or anything.

We left for Mexico on Wednesday morning, and arrived at the Grand Velas Riveria Maya early that afternoon. When I tell you that it's probably the closest thing to heaven on earth that I've experienced, I am not exaggerating. Here are a few things that made it great:

Did I mention all-inclusive? Did you know that means that you can eat EVERYTHING in the mini-bar, every. single. day?

I mean, I'm only assuming, because it's not like I would actually do that. (Okay, I would totally do that. And did. Every day. And if you think I didn't stuff the entire mini-bar into my purse on the day we left, then you clearly have never read this blog).

We had a personal butler named, Orion. I'm not even sure what buttling entails, or why we would need a butler. But he was awesome. One night, we asked him about this particular restaurant on the property that's supposed to be the "signature" restaurant. He told us that the food was, and I quote: "weird, but delicious." Like, I said. Awesome.

(Here we are at the "weird but delicious" restaurant. And he was totally right. I almost never knew what I was putting in my mouth, but it was delicious.)

Also, did you know that all-inclusive means you can order room service once an hour, if you so desire? Few things are as fun for me as eating in bed while watching tv. Just ask John, who on our second date, saw a half-eaten donut sitting on my nightstand. And almost threw up in his mouth. Because, apparently guys think there's something unattractive about eating donuts in bed. Go figure.

Pina coladas by the pool. Apparently I like to enjoy treats while lounging.

(Apparently I also like to take unfortunate pictures of myself and post them on my blog)

Dolphin Discovery! Although, it really should've been called "Discover Sherri Flashing" or something like that, because during the part where we ride the dolphins? Well, let's just say that my bikini bottoms didn't stand up to the task. And a big, sarcastic, thank you to the dolphin who dropped me off right in FRONT of the crowd we came with. Awesome. Thanks, Flipper. (No pictures of that. This isn't that kind of blog, people.)
A security escort to go running around the property. Well, this wasn't one of the best parts...it was actually kind of awkward, but it DID make me feel like the president or something.
These fabulous boots that we (okay, John) bargained down from $575 (dollars NOT pesos) to $75!!

John had to have a little pep talk with me before we went shopping, because this is usually what happens when we're in a negotiating situation like this:

John: Sir, how much are these boots?

Sherri: I LOVE THESE!!!!

Store Owner: $575

John: Hahahaha, no really. How much? We'll give you $50.

Store Owner: $250

Sherri: Please don't walk away, please don't walk away. Oops, did I say that outloud?

Fortunately, I kept my mouth shut, and John got us a great deal. Well, got me a great deal. 'Cause if I catch him wearing my lady boots, we'll have a real problem.

(Also, I think I may have a serious boot addiction.)

Anyway, I could go on and on, but I won't because, I am a thousand percent positive that this is really only interesting to me. But I will say, GO THERE IMMEDIATELY, if you are looking for a vacation spot.

And take me with you.

Need Some Help, Girls.....

2010-09-29T19:07:00.000-07:00

I am totally at a loss for what I should be feeding AG. She turns one NEXT FRIDAY, and you'd think I just might have this down by now.

Unfortunately, you would be wrong.

By the way, I have a way more interesting (No.) post about our vacation to Mexico last week. What's that? You wondered why I hadn't been posting? Or you knew that because of my ~~complete and total paranoia~~ safety-mindedness that I must not be posting because we were traveling.

Which, when I think about it, isn't really a super stellar way of throwing off burglars, is it?

At any rate, on to my questions.

Disclaimer: Feel free to answer, speculate, and generally throw in your two-cents whether you have children of your own, or whether you just googled answers to these questions five minutes ago. I'm not picky.

1. When did you start giving your baby whole milk?

2. When did you drop the pre-bedtime feeding? And do you promise that AG will keep sleeping through the night? Because if not, I'll be giving her a bedtime bottle every night til she goes to college.

Attractive.

3. What did your day look like when your baby turned one? (Feedings, naptimes, outings? Collapsing onto the couch while praying that your baby would take a decent nap?)

4. Any tips on great solid foods for little ones? AG eats some big people food, but mostly still stage 3 baby food. It's easier, and I'm apparently a little lazy. She has a bunch of teeth, and I'm sure she could be eating more foods, if I wasn't such a sissy and deathly afraid of her choking.

5. Anything else I need to know?

Thanks, y'all! I'll post some pictures of our Mexico trip soon, I promise. It basically involved John having to work (a little), while I raided the mini-bar for chocolate every morning. And afternoon. And evening.

I also may or may not have accidentally flashed some of his coworkers during our "ride the dolphins, and OH, hey, maybe you should tell people not to wear string bikinis!" adventure.

Good times.

Baby D's New Look (I mean, on the blog. I didn't give AG a sassy new makeover, or anything).

2010-09-17T16:42:00.000-07:00

Do you ever ~~stalk~~ read blogs, and decide that if you lived in the same city as the blog author, you would definitely be friends?
Maybe you even occasionally start talking about this person in conversations with your husband, telling him about how so-and-so did/said the funniest/coolest/most thought-provoking thing today.

(And maybe when he figures out that this is a person you have never actually met, he looks at you like you’re a total creeper.)

NOT that I know about this from experience. Because I don’t.

Except that I do.

Anyway, I’ve been reading Melanie’s blog for awhile now, and thinking: this girl seems SO sweet and godly, and I want to be just like her.

(Now I sound creepy again, don’t I?)

So, about a month ago, Melanie offered a giveaway for a free custom blog design. (Because not only is she a busy mother of two, she finds time to do these fantabulous blog creations. It would be sickening if she wasn't so awesome.). I read about this giveaway, and decided, well yes. Yes, I would like to win that. And against ALL of my normally un-winning odds, I actually won.

Let me just tell you that, now, after working with Melanie on this design, I am CERTAIN that we would be friends in real life. And not just in blog life. Because she reached into my brain and pulled out EXACTLY what I would have wanted, had I been creative enough to think of it on my own.

Which I obviously wasn’t.

Regardless, if you’re in the market for a new blog design, TALK TO MELANIE. Her designs are awesome, she is beyond sweet & fun to work with, and her prices are so affordable.

Thank you again, Melanie for the fantastic design! I loved getting to work with you on this!

Athens

2010-09-15T13:27:00.000-07:00

Dear Sherri,

Your little trip to Athens today was fun, wasn't it? You got to re-live old memories at the ADPi house, walk around downtown, and see the (in)famous Brumby again. Good times.

But listen.....when you're chatting with the cute, young college girls working in that adorable shop downtown, and you ask them what sorority they're in, they are NOT going to return the question. Sorry, hon. And don't expect them to ask what "year" you are. I'm not sure, but it may have a little something to do with the bags under your eyes.

And your lack of desire to try to hide them with makeup.

And the fact that you asked them where to find a Georgia cheerleading uniform for your baby.

(Btw, it's not nice to wish wrinkles and early aging upon those girls either. Just sayin.)

I know you haven't been back to Athens in a quite awhile (due to a child who insisted upon being born during football season last year. Diva.), but it's generally best if you don't go around starting sentences with, "when I was in Athens."

Like, "when I was in Athens, we used to go to Mexicali all the time." Or "when I was in Athens, we still had dial-up internet. And no tivo." And especially not, "when I was in Athens, we only used our cell phones for emergencies, and we (gasp) didn't text our friends."

You might as well tell people that you walked 5 miles, uphill, in the snow, to your classes.

Be prepared for the college children to look at you like you're an alien from another planet. (Or just a thirty-something. Which is basically the same thing to them.)

Let me sum it up for you: Just because you wear jeggings, drink Starbucks, and say things like "awesome," people do NOT think you're still in college. (And probably especially because you say things like "awesome.")

Sincerely,
Your thirty-something self that gets tired at 9:30, loves HGTV, and kicks it regularly in her sweatpants.

(Hey, at least it's not a housecoat. Yet.)

A Few Things.....

2010-09-09T19:02:00.000-07:00

1. Ally Grace is officially 11 months old! Which means, next month, she'll be considered a toddler.
Coincidentally, it also means that I will no longer be able to blame things on "the baby." Or even (shamefully) the pregnancy.

Like this raging case of OCD I seem to have picked up, because of the pregnancy.

Or the hypothetical widening of my hips, because of the baby.

Or darn, I sure would love to come to your (insert event that I am desperately trying to get out of) but I can't, because I have to get home and feed the baby.

Regardless, I'm loving every minute of this stage with Ally Grace. Even though she's going through what some might call a "screeching in public" phase. And despite the fact that she's constantly got her finger in her nose, my nose, or just jabbing it somewhere in the general vicinity of my eyeball.

But really, she's five thousand kinds of adorable, and I'll just leave it at that. I couldn't possibly love the girl more.

2. (I know, I know, that was ALL number 1. Rash.) So, I watched the show "Hellcats" last night. It has all the things I look for in a new favorite show:

it's on the CW
it's all about cheerleading (hello? Bring It On, anyone?!)
it has a target audience of teenagers

What's not to love?

3. I came up with a fantastic combination of toppings at my neighborhood Yoforia. Which I may have visited one (or five) too many times this week. Potentially even immediately after going on a run. But really, I was doing a public service by experimenting with toppings, because what I am about to share with you will rock. your. world.

Blueberries......with fruity pebbles.

Clearly I have a mature food palate. (No.) Also, I'm pretty sure the blueberries cancel out the fruity pebbles.

4. WHERE in the world can you find a 12 month old Georgia cheerleading uniform??? Don't worry, I'm not signing her up for cheerleading. Yet. But her first birthday party's coming up, and due to our inability to consult a calendar before planning important events, we may have accidentally planned it for the Georgia-Tennessee game. Which will now be referred to as "Ally Grace's First Tailgate" by everyone that matters.

(Or probably only by us. But isn't a baby cheerleading uniform practically a requirement here? I'm feeling scared that I might have to bust out some scissors and try to get crafty, if I can't find one that's actually made by professionals. Or Nike. Or just someone who sews.)

5. And because I'd really like to end on number 5 (and, hello OCD....we're back), I'll just tell you that for Labor Day, we went to the lake.

As per usual, we attended the Lake Rabun holiday buffet, hosted by the Dillard House. And as per usual, we not only had the buffet memorized, we used this to our advantage to strategize our food choices, placement, and general execution.

What? It was completely all because of ~~the pregnancy.~~ ~~the baby.~~

Oh wait.

Yes, We ARE Those People

2010-09-03T11:01:00.000-07:00

Voting starts today on Gerber's Cutest Kid! Which we sincerely hope will be Ally Grace, so that we can afford to send her to college.

(Have I guilted you into voting yet?)

Here's the link, should you be so inclined to use it. (Please use it.)

Happy Labor Day Weekend everyone! GO DAWGS!

Photos and Contest

2010-08-31T13:06:00.000-07:00

Welcome back to the most inconsistent blog on the planet. I'm sure that the 2 people who read this have really, really missed me.

Or not.

We've been busy traveling, going to showers, and learning to crawl. (Well, not me, I already know how to crawl, believe it or not.)

Ally Grace had her 10 month photos taken by our friend Kerie.....and since a picture is worth a thousand words, this might be the longest blog you've ever "read." Enjoy!

Notice the devious glint in her eye. She completely gets this from her dad.

Definitely not from me. Nope. Definitely not.

This last photo is totally my favorite. And apparently everyone else's, as I learned from a ~~not at all annoying~~ poll of our family and friends.

So in semi-related news, we've decided to enter AG in Gerber's Cutest Kid contest. NOT because we think she's the cutest kid in the world. (Except that we totally do). And not because I'm trying to get all "Toddlers and Tiaras" up in here. (I promise not to pierce her ears, make her wear makeup, or dress her up in mini-evening gowns, until, oh, never, since she'll be wearing turtlenecks and sweaters until she's at least 25. And possibly longer.)

The main reason we're doing this is because the winner is awarded a $25,000 scholarship for college! And I will do just about anything to win that scholarship. Including, but not limited to, ~~really obnoxiously begging~~ asking people to vote for her via the blog, twitter, facebook, and possibly even wearing puff-painted t-shirts with her name on them.

Well. Let's not be rash. No amount of money is worth that kind of fashion mishap.

Voting begins September 3rd, and in case you're worried that you might forget, you shouldn't. Because I'm not going to let you.

Let the voting begin!
(In about 3 days).

Lazy vs. Efficient

2010-08-20T10:06:00.000-07:00

Does it make me lazy or just extremely efficient that I would probably give someone my right arm for this?

http://blogs.ajc.com/atlanta-bargain-hunter/2010/08/09/publix-tests-curbside-service-in-atlanta/

Let's go with efficient.

Memories

2010-08-18T08:24:00.000-07:00

Seven years ago, on my 23rd birthday, I went out with friends. Some new, some old, some still my best friends today. I wore a big pink tiara and an Urban Outfitters t-shirt that said “Proud to Farm.”

(Clearly, I was shy and didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to myself).

My still fairly new boyfriend had gotten a big group of people together for dinner at OK Café, an Atlanta institution. Afterwards, we went out in Buckhead til the early morning hours.

The next day, said boyfriend made me WAKE UP AT 4AM (maybe a couple of hours after I went to sleep!) to pick me up for a surprise hot air balloon ride. I didn’t know where we were going, and am pretty sure I was contemplating whether I wanted to continue dating someone that did surprises at such godforsaken hours of the day.

It WAS however, a really fun experience. And it wasn’t even the best part of my day—the boyfriend let me go home, get back into my pajamas, and he watched movies with me all day, only leaving my condo once to go get us some BBQ and a pecan pie. Heaven. This is when I knew we were made for each other.

Or maybe I knew it later that night, when he told me he loved me and wanted to marry me (after six weeks of knowing each other). How did I know, you ask? I’m pretty sure it was from my lack of desire to run screaming from the room in a complete and total panic. Instead, all I felt was excitement.

That was 7 birthdays ago, and John and I are both a lot older (especially in his case) and (hopefully) wiser. We’ve been through so many amazing times and a few rough ones too.

And even though today is my birthday, and we’re technically supposed to be celebrating me, I always feel like celebrating us instead.

Thank you for being the best birthday present ever, babe. You were the surprise of a lifetime.

(And the rest of you are welcome to go throw up now.)

Goodbye to My Twenties

2010-08-17T08:53:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow, I say goodbye to my twenties....It's been quite the decade, I must say.

In the last 10 years, I.....

moved 6 times

had THREE careers

fell in love

had my heart broken

fell in love FOR REAL

got married

was a newlywed

bought my first house

fell in love with the best dog in the world

experienced pregnancy (and all it's ups and downs)

became a mother!

formed some amazing friendships

became a runner

ran a marathon

went to Europe

was a ropes course instructor (despite a paralyzing fear of heights)

became addicted to stainless steel wipes and marshmallows

grew in my relationship with Jesus

went on hiking trips

began my love affair with Starbucks

learned that I loved Thai food

started a blog

(am so thankful for people who actually read it)

In the words of Jenna Rink in 13 Going on 30:

"To being 30. I've decided it's gonna be awesome."

Surprised

2010-08-16T09:03:00.000-07:00

Seven years ago, on our 3rd date, John gave me a toy detective kit. Complete with handcuffs (minds out of the gutter, people!), a police baton (in case I needed to give someone a beat down?), and a magnifying glass (to look for clues, of course). I happened to be an investigator for DFCS at the time, and he assured me that these toys were going to help me in my new career.

Or not.

(Personally, I believe it's because he had the foresight to know that I make it my mission in life to ~~ruin surprises~~, ~~be nosy~~, figure things out.)

So this year, you can imagine the VERY GREAT RESTRAINT shown when I managed to NOT open an email that was left OPEN on his iphone bearing the subject: "Sherri's Birthday, Pricci, August 14th."

Excuse me husband, have we met? Head in the game, John! Do you know that I had to immediately, fingers-twitching, give you back your phone and run away?

I might also add that among our friends, we are notorious for trying to throw each other surprise parties. Every year. Some people have begun referring to it as the "Annual John/Sherri Surprise Party." As in, will there be an Annual Surprise Party this year?

Why, yes. Yes, there will.

Thank you to my wonderful husband for the fabulous surprise 30th birthday party! And in case you were wondering, I'm still 29 for 2 more days, and don't think I'm not hanging on for dear life.

Disclaimer: it is total and complete coincidence that I had my hair and makeup done on the day of my party.

Totally.

Possibly.

Me and the sneaky secret-keeper

Rod and Kristin, his partners in crime.

Moment of truth--why is it so embarrassing to be serenaded by 30 people?

Again with the serenading.

(Okay, who am I kidding? I loved it.)

Quite possibly the best picture on record of my brother-in-law, Jamey.

Doesn't he look so good in Burberry?

Huge thank you to all of my sweet friends and family who helped throw my snoopy self off track in previous weeks. You're all ~~big liars~~ awesome, and I love you!

PCB, How I Love You

2010-08-10T13:52:00.000-07:00

Whew! I have been going nuts over here, working 2 full time jobs, and my most demanding boss likes to poop in her pants at very inopportune moments.

(And yes, I am talking about Ally Grace here.)

(And if I wasn't, that would possibly be the world's most awkward employee dilemma.)

If you've ever been to Panama City Beach, you pretty much either love it or hate it. I happen to LOVE IT.  For lots of reasons, the main one being that I have years of great family vacation memories there. Plus spring breaks, senior trips, and lots of girls weekends. And on our most recent visit (last week) I got to add some news memories: seeing AG at the beach for the first time, watching her cry when we put her toes in the sand, and spending some quality time with my parents. We loved every minute of it!

There were, however, a few other noteworthy things that made this year's trip stand out.

1. The girls in the crocheted bikinis and cowboy hats, taking model shots on the fake island in the middle of the pool.  Classy. Of ALL the times to leave my camera in the room. WHYYYYYYYYY??????

2. Working out at The Lord's Gym. Seriously. It's this gym in a local church where you can give a donation to work out. (Or you can literally just work out for free. They really don't care.) Driving up, I asked John if he thought church members might witness to us while we were jogging on the treadmill. Or maybe they let you lift crosses instead of weights. Instead what transpired was a solid workout, amongst a whole bunch of beefy guys, and a little kid who was dribbling a basketball dangerously close to my face while I did crunches.

Maybe now that I've worked out, I too can go model in my crocheted bikini at the resort pool. Or maybe not. Ever.

3. The sheer number of mulleted, airbrushed t-shirted people that I saw in the Walmart parking lot. It was like there was a convention in town. One that I sadly was not invited to.

4. Beating a certain someone (and by "certain someone" I mean "John")  in a rousing game of putt-putt. Or at least, as rousing as putt putt can be.

Here are a few pictures from our trip, although there's no crocheted swimwear involved. You can thank me later.

AG loving the pool...like mother, like daughter.

Bath time in the sink....because, well, who doesn't love a picture of a bathing baby.

Or a picture of my HUGE roots, for that matter.

On our way to putt putt. If only he had known the butt-kicking that awaited him.

AG and her Granddaddy!

Facing the Great Unknown.

(Or, if you're not overly dramatic, the ocean.)

Had to show you how unhappy AG was with the sand. Unfortunately, that also means I had to show you what I look like after just waking up and only a few sips of coffee. And yes, that IS my coffee cup in the lower left hand corner of the picture. With a straw. 'Cause that's how I roll.

AG loves her Grandmama and Granddaddy.

Do you see all the teeth?! She has EIGHT. And she knows how to use 'em.
Just ask my face, which instead of kissing, she now likes to bite. And not because she's a Twilight fan. I think.

Finally, I want to document in writing for the future version of myself, that it is NOT smart to travel with a tired, hungry baby, who decides she wants to be anywhere BUT her carseat within the first hour. A ghetto-rigged, portable DVD player, playing Praise Baby will not even help. Neither will singing the Itsy Bitsy Spider over and over again (even if we're singing it in ROUNDS....which actually might have been the problem, now that I think about it). Nor will getting in the backseat and feeding her puffs on demand. At least not for long enough.

Sippy Cups and Growing Up

2010-07-29T07:36:00.000-07:00

Today is AG's last day in her preschool class, or as I like to call it, the class of crying non-crawlers. Seriously, every time I go in there, they all start crying. Either A) I am horrifyingly scary to look at in the morning (v. possible), or B) my presence reminds them that their own mommy isn't there to pick them up yet. I'm starting to get a complex about it.

Anyway, next week, Ally Grace is moving up to the crawler class, despite the fact that she's not ACTUALLY crawling yet.

And then the following week, I'm pretty sure she'll be going off to college.

So, in the crawler class, not only do the babies sleep on mats and eat real food, they drink from sippy cups! Now, we've done some playing around with the sippy cup (and by playing, I mean throwing it, biting it, and hitting mommy in the face with it). However, AG has made it very clear that she strictly prefers her milk in a bottle, thankyouverymuch.

Which means I need some advice. How do you teach your baby to drink from a cup instead of a bottle? And what if your favorite time of day is giving her that first bottle, while you drink your morning coffee (mommy's sippy cup) and watch tv? And what if you want to freeze time right where it is, refusing to allow her any more growing up?

Just hypothetically, of course.

Listen, you don't even have to have a baby to give me some advice. If you EVER babysat, had younger siblings or cousins, or have even just seen a baby and have some really good ideas on the matter, you're more of an expert than I am.

Help!

Projects, Farmer's Market, and Martha-ness

2010-07-25T11:08:00.000-07:00

In the last three days, I've chased dogs, chased babies, and been asked if I was a Marine THREE times!

Why, was it the noodle arms, and obvious love of clothes and hair products that gave it away?

(Or maybe it had something to do with the Marine t-shirt I was wearing. I'm not sure.)

As we speak, John is once again working his sanding magic on that old dresser we're trying to strip and paint. Apparently, a dresser that has been painted purple (with bible verses on the drawers, I might add), and THEN later painted green isn't very easy to sand. Who knew?

Personally, I think he's just trying to show off his power tools expertise.

I AM super excited about this little project though. I'll have to take picture of the finished product, but here's a little sample of what I'm planning to do to the knobs:

Is that not so cute? Since the budget doesn't include Anthropologie knobs, I'm just gonna have to get creative.

(Speaking of which, shouldn't Anthropologie be a line item in any budget? Clearly.)

I also went to the Chamblee Farmer's Market this weekend with my friend, Eryn. It's still pretty small, but had some great things. Like vegetables. And farmers.

I bought one of their totes, because there's a slight chance that I may have a tote addiction. Which is characterized by owning approximately 537 tote bags.  When I got home, I realized, hmmmm, that might have been what John likes to call "an unnecessary purchase." Or, what I like to call, "supporting the local community."

Then I had the "could have been bad, but fortunately it worked out" idea to actually cut the logo off of the bag, and frame it....I think it turned out pretty cool, since the logo has sort of a vintage-y feel to it.

Finally, in another burst of Martha-ness, I made dinner again on Saturday night. (And if you think this isn't noteworthy enough to record on the blog, you would be wrong.) It's what I like to call "a Farmer's Market feast." Or what John likes to call, "this is great, babe, but where's the protein?"

Men.

Um, Yeah

2010-07-21T13:08:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I ate a jar of baby food. Just because it was good. PLEASE somebody tell me that they've done this! I mean, come on, what doesn't sound delicious about cinnamon raisin granola?

Exactly.