Teeth and Ally Grace

So, I know I haven't posted recently.  But unfortunately that's what happens when your Internet stops working and you, hypothetically, OF COURSE, decide to just press all the buttons on that router thing-y until you ultimately kill it can get it to start working again.

(Including, just POSSIBLY the button that reverts it back to factory settings, although I'm so not admitting that I did that.)

(Although it is rather telling that John's first question to me was "How many times did you bang on it?")

(In my defense, it works for the printer.)

Anyway, last week was kind of crazy.  I can't remember too much about it, mainly because I was doped up on painkillers, pre-root canals.

Oh, what's that?  Yes.  I did just say root CANALS.  As in, plural.  As in TWO.  At the same time.

Feel free to bless my heart right about now.

When I got to the specialist's office, he began testing to see which tooth was the problem.  And let me just say, when you've been teetering on the edge of wall-punching pain, the last thing you want is to have someone put a q-tip of liquid nitrogen on the teeth that are causing said pain.

And then the last thing you want to HEAR is the dentist telling you, "now, don't get emotional, hon," because you may have started bawling like a 2-year old right there in the dental chair.

Dear Root Canal Doctor,


When you and your liquid nitrogen have just sent someone over the edge of the pain scale, I would seriously re-think telling them to calm down.  And if you call me "hon" one more time, let's just say, I won't be using a wall for any pain-related punching episodes.  


Although I do appreciate the laughing gas, the numbing stuff, and the fact that I'm now out of pain.

Thanks, Hon!


Sincerely,


The patient who just dropped more money on dental work than some people spend on cars, and I hope you enjoy your new vacation home, courtesy of my marshmallow teeth.


A few other things I remember from last week:

1.  While out to dinner with some of our friends, AG looked over to the table next to ours, where there was a guy with a beard.  She proceeded to grab my arm and (loudly) proclaim, "Look mommy, it's Jesus!"

I mean, I'm sure Jesus would love Verde and all, but, um, NO.  Not unless Jesus is a young, blond hippie in cargo shorts.

2.  One day last week, I told Ally Grace, "You look so pretty!"  She replies, "NO, Mommy, I'm not pretty."  I'm all, "well, then what are you?"  And she says, "I'm not pretty, I'm FANCY."

Clearly.

3.  (AND, apparently all my best stories are about Ally Grace and my teeth. It's a glamorous life I lead over here, people.)

We are truly raising a little southern girl, y'all.  I recently asked her what she wanted to eat, and she said "barbecue." Then, every morning, when we turn on her radio/sound machine, she asks for "country music."  And now, check it out:

If you think I didn't immediately order the grown-up version of those boots for myself, you may not have
read this blog before.

4.  Our church had a night of worship, and with MUCH fear and trembling (and many snacks), I agreed to take AG with us, instead of getting a babysitter.  It started at her bedtime, so I was pretty nervous....but she was awesome!  We stayed til the end, and she LOVED the music.

Although she did keep asking us when she could go up on stage and play the "tocar" (guitar), or the drums.

And she may have tried to steal our grape juice and crackers during communion; persistently asking for some of our "snacks."

Still.  One of my very favorite family memories thus far.


How was your week?  Hopefully, it didn't involve dual root canals, dying Internet, or people calling you "hon."

Unless you wanted them to.

Pain

Y'all.

Tooth pain has got to be one of the worst kinds of pain. Including childbirth. And waxing.  Seriously.

It's even worse than the pain I feel when watching some poor girl go on and on about the "connection" she's found on the Bachelor.

(Although that might actually be embarrassment, and not pain.)

(It's still painful to watch though.)

I've spent most of my waking minutes since Saturday night feeling as if I would like to punch through a wall, because my jaw hurts so badly.  Except that A) that would be totally counterproductive, and would likely add to my pain by breaking my hand or something, and B) might actually be just a tad bit of a scary overreaction.

So.  I won't do that.

I will go take my 37th Advil of the day, and try to make it until this afternoon's emergency root canal.

Delightful.

Dear Root Canal Specialist,


Thank you for working me in today.  Truthfully, you're lucky I didn't just show up at your house this morning like a stalker, begging you to put me out of my tooth-related misery.  Since I didn't sleep for more than 30 minutes last night, but DID take a rather large amount of painkillers, I am both groggy AND extremely irritable at the same time.  Lucky you.  Clearly, I will be such a joy to work on today.


I hope you have truckloads of laughing gas available. As well as some Ryan Reynolds.  


Sincerely, 
Your most desperate patient, who will love you forever if you can make this go away.  

It's Loud Time, Mommy....

The other day, AG ran up to me and yelled, "It's LOUD time, Mommy!"

Why yes.  Yes, I do believe I've noticed.

Toddlers are intimidating, am I right?  One minute, they're all sweetness and cuddles, and asking to "snuggle," and then the next minute, they're screaming, NO!  Or telling you that they "don't want a kiss right now, Mommy."   Or maybe they're just wildly running from the front door to the back door, and hey, maybe even throwing in some laps around the coffee table just for fun.

I mean, not that OUR toddler ever does things like that.

Except that she does.

At almost 2 and a half years old, she is quite the comedian these days.  Some of my favorite Ally Grace-isms from lately:

"Say thank you to me, Mommy."  Can you tell that we're working on manners these days?

"I need that knife, Mommy."  Um, no Bon qui qui, I'm pretty sure you don't.

"Jackson!  Cooperate with me, Jackson!"   I sort of lost it on this one. Watching our pint-sized little presh boss our 100lb dog around made my entire day.

(He may listen to her better than he listens to me, actually).

Here are a few pictures to document this time in our lives, which I like to refer to as "Hey, Who Are You, and What Did You Do With Our Calm Little Angel?"

Alternately titled: "Where Did I Put Those Books On Discipline Again?  And Can Someone Get Me a Red Bull?"

Just introducing Ally Grace to a little place I like to call "Heaven on Earth."
(aka Anthropologie)
Just trying to be a good mom, over here.

Remember AG's photo shoot, almost a year ago now?
Well, the box finally came out!
That's her in the highchair, rocking her baby french twist.

I feel that the giraffe should be slightly concerned here,
as I'm pretty sure she's either going to hug him to death, or break his neck, kamikaze-style.
One or the other.

Oh, if only she would come out of her shell....

Me:  Yes, Ally Grace, you're so right.  Menswear is all the rage this season.
Pair it with some footie pajamas and it's so totally fetch.

AG:  Stop trying to make fetch happen, mommy!

And once again, we're back to the subject of poop.
But excuse me, WHAT?!?!  She went in the potty at school!
And now, I guess I need to re-read some of those books on potty training.

Maybe this time in our lives should really be called:
Potty Training: Do I REALLY Have To Clean Up (More) Poop Now?!

A couple of weeks ago, AG had a little stomach bug.  It literally lasted about 2 hours, and then she transformed back into a toddler energy tornado.  Coincidentally, she got sick right before she was supposed to go to school.  I got her a little bowl for any more "episodes" (since I'm not sure our rug is up to another round of being puked on).  I texted John this picture, to say "aw, look at our sick little baby. Isn't she pitiful?"

He texted back and said, "whatever.  She looks like she just got away with something."

Sucker.

Okay, every time I see this picture, I start to quietly hyperventilate, as I am mentally fast-forwarded to her teenage days.

Could she look any more grown up?  I promise, she is NOT wearing makeup in this.

(Although, I wouldn't put it past her to have taught herself how to do a smoky eye while pilfering through my makeup bag on the sly.)

So, as you can see, we're dealing with a beautiful, fashion-forward, Anthropologie-loving, little presh, who can rock a sneaky-face, AND poop in the potty.

The boys are going to love her.

We might need to look into home-schooling.

Using Pinterest for Good And Not For Evil

If you've been here for any amount of time, you may have realized that I'm not the biggest fan of cooking.
And by "not the biggest fan," I mean that I would literally pay someone cash money to be my private chef.

Except that A) my husband would completely freak out,  B) we don't actually have the kind of cash money I'm sure it requires (I've heard private chefs enjoy being paid.  But if you know one who would do it for free, send them my way), and C) who says "cash money" these days?

(Me. I say it.)

Let me be totally honest, it's not just the cooking that I don't really enjoy.  It's also the meal-prepping, the grocery shopping, and the cleaning up after that I could do without.

After Ally Grace's two-year appointment with our much-loved pediatrician, I decided to get serious about this cooking thing.  Mainly because, upon his discovery of how much we eat out, he basically shamed me into wanting to cook more. It went a little something like this:

Dr. Pip:  So, how is Ally Grace eating these days?

Me:  Oh, great!  She'll eat pretty much anything at any of the restaurants we go to.

Dr. Pip:   O-kay.  And exactly how often are you eating out?

Me:  "Oh, um......I don't know......a few times (mumble, mumble, I really hope he can't hear me) a week. Or so."

Dr. Pip:   "SHERRI! You need to eat at home more!"

Me:  "John totally paid you to say that, didn't he?"

Shortly after, I signed up for a service called E-Meals.  It's a meal-planning service that sends you seven days of easy meals, and a full grocery list each week.  You can choose your meal-plan by grocery store, and the menu is based on the sale items for that week.

Combined with my beloved Publix Curbside shopping, I was in meal-planning and grocery shopping heaven.

(Until Publix Curbside shut down, as my weekly trips unfortunately weren't enough to sustain their business.  Sadly, we are no longer able to drive up, have the guys be like, "Hey Sherri, here's a cookie for you and Ally Grace. Let us load your groceries now.")

(Although if you think AG doesn't just expect the good people at Publix to give her cookies anytime we go there, you would be mistaken.)

Recently, it occurred to me that I could also use my Pinterest addiction for meal-planning, and not for, say, buying things I don't need off of etsy.

Which is just an example.

I promise I don't do that.

Much.

Anyway, here are a few of the fabulous pinterest-y meals we've had lately:

This was ridiculously good.  And ridiculously easy.  Like, crock-pot easy.
Win-win.
Or, if you're Courtney on the Bachelor, "winning."
I'm out for that.

You can find the recipe here.

Source: becomingbetty.blogspot.com via Sherri on Pinterest

Stop it.  Just stop it right now.  This was so delicious that I maybe perhaps tried to eat the whole pot.
By myself.

It's another crock pot extravaganza.

You're welcome.

(Guess what folks? I just learned how to embed a picture from Pinterest on my blog!  Aren't you proud of me?)

Source: bakedperfection.com via Sherri on Pinterest

Oh, what's this?  Just a tiny bit of chocolate-y heaven, that's what. 

And if you think most of my recipe pins aren't desserts, you would be wrong.

Do you have any recent Pinterest-y finds?  Or even just favorite recipes? I'd love to hear about them.  John, Ally Grace, and probably even Dr. Pip, will thank you.

This Is Important....

....and not at all funny, today.  Sorry, guys.

I know so many of you know someone, or were affected yourselves, by the tornadoes that came through the southeast last Friday.  I can't even begin to imagine the terror that the tornado victims and their families experienced, and the pain they feel as the recovery process begins.  My prayers go out to all of you!

My friend Stephanie, over at A Blue-Eye Boy Met a Brown-Eyed Girl, is heading up an effort to help a specific family (who lost everything during the storms) in her home state of Kentucky.  Please go check it out!  She's also listed a whole host of other ways to donate to the relief efforts, so check those out as well.

(Also, her blog is just plain awesome, and I kind of stalk it on the regular, so......you won't be sorry).

You may have noticed that I don't normally post about sad things, personal or otherwise.  It's not because I'm not aware of them, or because I don't experience them, it's just that I've tended to avoid some of the sadness in the world, by focusing on the things I can laugh about during the day.

Maybe it's time to change that.  At least for today.

I love Jesus, and I believe that He has called me to not only love Him, but to love others.  And yes, even those that I may not actually know, or may only know through the Internet.

(Which totally does NOT make me a creeper, by the way.)

(I hope.)

So, today I'm going to love someone I've never met (again, not in the creeper-ish way that it sounded) and head on over to Stephanie's blog, and donate.

I hope you will too.

The Weekend that Almost Wasn't

This weekend, (What? It's not appropriate to blog about your weekend, when it's already Thursday of the following week?  Well, it took me this long to actually recover from our weekend.  Which is saying a lot.)

ANYWAY.....this weekend, we went up to Highlands, NC for a little Valentine's Day getaway.

(Yes, we know it's not Valentine's Day anymore.)

(You may have noticed our penchant for doing things belatedly.  Like blogging about our weekend, for example.)

We dropped AG off at my parents house on our way up.  After getting back on the road, we decided to start our weekend off right, by grabbing a nice healthy lunch at Zaxby's.

(If by "healthy,"  I mean, "a lunch of only Texas toast, french fries, and Zax's sauce.")

After literally wrestling with John over his piece of Texas toast (which he was going to THROW AWAY. What is wrong with him?), he gets a phone call.

From our alarm company.

Letting us know that our alarm has been triggered and they are sending the police.

After hyperventilating into a paper bag waiting a few minutes, we get word that the police are there, have checked all the doors, windows, and interior of our house, and that everything is completely fine/undisturbed.

Deciding that it was a glitch, we head on up to Highlands, and begin our afternoon of fun.  (a.k.a. afternoon of shopping.  a.k.a. John's worst nightmare.) An hour or two later, we get ANOTHER CALL.

FROM THE ALARM COMPANY.

Letting us know that our alarm has been triggered and they are sending the police. 

We learn from the alarm company that it is one of our interior sensors that has been going off, and immediately I begin thinking through logical and completely possible scenarios.

Here's what I came up with:

A) A bug and/or critter is setting off a motion sensor.  (Which causes me to question whether I really want to go back home if there's something big enough to activate a motion sensor wandering around our house?  Um, no. I do not.)

B) Someone is hiding inside the house, and popping out to eat our snacks? Watch TV? Jump on beds?  At some point, I may or may not have questioned John about the possibility of someone hiding in our duct work.

At which point, he shot me the "are you nuts?" look (with which I am very familiar), and made fun of my paranoia gently reassured me that would be impossible, unless that person was the size and weight of a tiny doll.

(The good thing is that our local police were at our house within minutes, nothing was disturbed either time, and we now know that an extremely windy day is the perfect test for what is obviously a kick-butt alarm system, that may or may not be designed to give me a heart attack.)

And that was only our first three hours of the trip.

After reassuring John that we could go on a hike the next morning, to make up for the afternoon of shopping and hyperventilating, I woke up Saturday morning to......some super intense back pain.

Do you know what you can't do when you throw your back out?

Hike.

Do you know what you CAN do?

Lay around on an ice pack, popping Advil like candy, and watching Alaska State Troopers.

We did manage to have some fun anyway, due largely to stuffing our face at an amazing restaurant, an afternoon massage (back pain may have some benefits), and a front desk that has a 24-hour, all you can eat supply of Dove ice cream bars.

(Best. idea. ever.)

We only took 3 pictures, since we have clearly fallen victim to the "now we have a child and can only be bothered to take pictures of her" syndrome.

We stayed here....notice the stellar photo composition, which includes the hood of my car, plus the antenna.  I'm a real artist.

Here's the scenic view of the inside of my car.  Really, Sherri?  You're in a gorgeous mountain setting, and this is what you come up with? Nice.

And finally, we accosted the turn down service lady, and asked her to take our picture....inside of our room.  We are nothing if not creative.

(And paranoid.)

(And still searching my house for bugs and critters, just in case.)