Taking a Sick Day

(The girls playing when they should be cleaning... as always)

I'm home playing Mom today with a sick Macie who has the stomach flu.

She's been trying to convince me, at all angles, that she can and should eat food this morning.

She's like a persistent used car salesman in a 4 year old body that drives a hard bargain- a trait inherited by her father, I'm sure.

So I'm home and I do believe I'm feeling a bit off today...

and yesterday...

and last week...

and perhaps this whole month.

Just a bunch of lame series of events all rolling its way into my February.

It's unfortunate,

just when I'm about to throw myself a really great pity party (and I do mean GREAT)

I remind myself that no matter how hard I think my life is, someone always has it worse than me.

Not that it makes my trials and my worries any less important,

but it just gives me perspective-

that really, life's not so bad.

Last night, while I was doing the dishes, Abrie sat across from me carefully studying my every move,

when out of no where this little question chirped from her mouth, "Mom, is it hard being a MOM?"

I gave her an honest, unfiltered (well, maybe a little filtered) answer, "Yes, Abrie. Yes. It. Is."

Then I began to explain in 8 year old terms

that even though it's hard sometimes, it doesn't mean that I don't enjoy it.

In fact, it's quite the opposite... I love it!

Being a Mom is one of the best things a woman can be.

Sure, lots of things in life are hard, but it doesn't mean you throw in the towel and call it quits.

You keep going and going and pushing through.

Struggling through life adds character and builds an unbelievable amount of depth to a person.

I didn't say all of that, but I thought it and I truly believe it.

Then Abrie looked at me and said,

"I think I know what you're talking about. Sometimes it's hard being a kid too."

and then she hopped right down from her chair with her pony tails bouncing behind,

grabbed a wet rag and began helping me clean the kitchen without saying a word.

I think I want to be just like Abrie when I grow up.

. . . . .

Permission Granted

Nate told me I could post this video... kind of.
He didn't say no, so naturally I took that as a yes.

Before Nate watched my very first vlog he said to me,

"Ginnie, not be rude, but you know vlogs are generally meant to be informative... right?"
My response, "Ya, I know."
Nate: "So then what's it about?"
Me: "Nothing. It's a vlog about absolutely nothing."

Nate was kind enough to just go with it and not say another word about my lack of vlogging substance.

So I thought I was done with this whole vlogging thing, but I thought wrong. Really, it's your fault for encouraging me. This time around I've added a guest. Nate had no choice in the matter.

Pretend with me now that it is still Valentine's Day and you're really excited to watch this video...

No Laughing Matter

We had just enjoyed ourselves some awesome coconut shrimp taco's from Cafe Rio

when Macie gets a look of panic on her face...

she had to go to the bathroom and fast-

Montezuma had decided to take its revenge.

We quickly decided it was time to make our exit

before we headed out the door Nate grabbed some to-go bags

for Macie to sit on as added protection between her and the car seat.

As we were driving Macie decided the bags were a lot more fun to throw

then they were to sit on.

Which is probably true.

That's when Nate turns around to get after her.

(no counting was involved this time)

"Macie, you sit on those bags right now!"

Macie continues throwing the bags. The kids still wild with laughter...

"Macie, disobeying is not funny."

Actually, I thought it was a little bit funny.

But I had to agree,

disobeying is not funny,

especially when diarrhea is involved.

It's all fun and games until someone gets the back door trots on the upholstery.

. . . . .

The (day after) Valentine's Day Massacre

If there is a flat surface in my house, odds are it's covered-

covered with lovely red and pink papers,

empty candy wrappers and lots of them,

heart shaped boxes,

and paper bags turned into valentine's treasure keepers.

I need to be a wife and mother today and take back control of my house.

I can't stand when my house looks like this.

I try to explain to Nate

that the way the house looks, reflects the way I feel.

So today, I guess that would mean I'm feeling sheer chaos

and could possibly be hyperventilating.

My plan of action involves a LARGE garbage bag

and a 32 oz Diet Coke.

. . . . .

Happy V Day

(not to be confused with venereal awareness day. Although, I'm sure it could pass for that as well)

(and knowing that my blogging demographics show that 9 out of 10 readers happen to be 12 year old girls reading this

I should probably delete the above statement, but I'm not going to)

( because I'm rebellious like that)

. . . . .

First things first. Yes, my husband did profess his smoldering hot love for me publicly on this blog. And yes, now you know my secret... that sometimes, maybe on a slight occasion I do indeed call my husband Sugga Daddy. But there is one thing you must know; It is only said while no one is around and we are in the privacy of our own home AND it must be done with a southern drawl.

Moving on...

So I kind of felt like a Valentine's Day over achiever this year. I sat down and designed these valentine's day cards for the kids, printed them off, cut them down, and got cute little candies to go with it. Abrie's had Sweet tarts and Kaleb's had Pop Rocks... because naturally, all the first and second grade kids would recognize the clever play on words. And probably, when they go home with all their treasured Valentine's Day surprises they would gently pull out Abrie's and Kaleb's, look at it adoringly, and build a custom 2x3 frame just to put their cards in. Because first and second graders are thoughtful and appreciative like that.

Abrie & Kaleb were pretty excited to have their faces on the cards this year. And as they thanked me for my efforts Abrie so lovingly pointed out that I missed the 'THE' on "I think you're THE 'tweet'est". Unfortunately, I wasn't about to go back and redo the work I just did. I'm just crossing my fingers that most of her second grade class is illiterate.

My final thoughts on custom Valentine's:

Sure the cards are cute and fun, but will I ever do it again? Probably not. I think these cards were more for me than they were for them. I think Valentine's is about the memories of them scribbling and creating their own cards to give to their friends and being excited that they did it all by themselves. The end.

And to Nate, I give you this...

It's just a little poem I made up all by myself with the help of Dan Baird. Am I totally dating myself?

And last, but not least...

[insert funny Valentine's Day vlog of me and Nate]

Unfortunately, Nate is feeling a little shy about me publishing our little video we made together. I'm still working on him and I'm sure with a little gentle nudging from you and me he could easily be persuaded. Keep the faith. Don't lose hope. That video will soon be making an appearance.

Happy Valentine's Day my friends!

xoxo

. . . . .

To my wife...

Okay... for all of you out there this is Ginnie's husband. Most people call me Nate. First things first... Happy V day! I hope you have a fantastic and romantical day today. I just wanted to wish my special wife (and I mean "special") a very Merry Valentines Day!

Ginnie,
I love you and want you to know how much I appreciate you. You really do so much for me and our family that I can't thank you enough. Your one of a kind and I'm the luckiest one to have you. You really are my everything! I love you!

Your sugga daddy...

Nate :)

Thanks to all for bearing with me and going through that. To each of you I give you props.

The Gift of Gluttony

For Valentine's Day why not think outside the heart-shaped candy box.

Show them you love them. Show them you care.

Show them how much they mean to you by giving them

the World's Largest Gummy Bear from perpetualkid.com.

This bad boy weighs just over 4 lbs and is bigger than a football.

One of these gummy bears is equivalent to 1,400 regular sized gummy bears

and if you were to consume one of these puppies in one sitting

you would have just consumed 12,600 calories.

My cute SIL gave us one of these for Christmas.

My kid's eyes nearly popped right out of their head, they were so excited.

It's really the gift that keeps giving.

Just think about it...

Every time they walk and they hear their inner thighs clapping together

they'll think of you and your thoughtfulness on Valentine's Day.

The gift of gluttony... it's a beautiful thing.

Eden and the Gummy Bear.

We have yet to take it out of its package. I think perhaps we'll just use it as part of our food storage...

our only food storage.

I figure it's enough to keep a small family of 6 alive for at least 3.5 months.

. . . . .

:: FYI ::

Eden's bedding was from Target

The grey bootie ruffle heels can be found here.

PS- We ate at La Caille

. . . . .

The Fuzz

I get it in my pockets.

Nate gets it in his belly button.

Eden gets it in her toes.

Only difference is Eden's toe lint is really cute.

Kind of makes me want to pick it all out and save it in a jar...

A really adorable baby-toe-lint-collecting jar.

Note to Nate: Don't get any crazy ideas.

. . . . .

Of Love & Languages & Such

Last night Nate and I shared a most magical moment together. He stared deeply into my eyes and spoke the most profound words,

"Ginnie, I know what your love language is."

My response was,

"Stop it now. You know how hot it makes me when you talk LOVE."

(No... that really wasn't my response, but it should have been)

You see Nate is currently reading The 5 Love Languages which is great, because I've been trying to figure me out for years and since I didn't come with a users/owners manual this is probably, like, the next best thing.

If you haven't heard about the book let me give a quick run down. Basically, in a relationship there are 5 different ways a person shows/feels LOVE:

1. Words of Affirmation

2. Quality Time

3. Receiving Gifts

4. Acts of Service

5. Physical Touch

So Nate sat there next to me on the couch and began to analyze me. Which I find to be very entertaining.

"Ginnie, I have concluded that you are all of the love languages"

My initial thought was, I had no idea how talented my love was. We're talking a multilingual love here folks. You might speak one or two, but I, I speak all of them. And then it hit me, wait a minute... I'm pretty sure that's not a compliment. I know I'm a lot of things, but high maintenance? I am not.

Sure, I like my foot rubbed and being fed grapes while I soak in the bath.

And sure, I like Nate's every waking minute to be spent thinking about me and how he can make my life better.

And sure, I like him to tell me my jeans don't make me look fat repeatedly.

And sure, I like being showered with roses and diamonds and endless amounts of shopping sprees.

And sure, maybe from time to time I like Nate to wear a nice fitted pair of jeans, a little bow tie, and no shirt and ask, "Ginnie, what can I clean for you today?"

But really, what woman doesn't want that? Does it make me high maintenance?

Pfft, no! It just makes Nate lucky. Lucky that he can receive the great blessings that come from serving his loving multilingual love speaking wife.

. . . . .

Truth be told, I'm not all of those love languages. Not at all. I would definitely say that I am Acts of Service. To serve me is to love me.

Dear Nate. I'm sorry.

With deepest love that burns in my bosom,

Ginnie

PS- You're the best husband I've ever had.

(for all you non-love language talkers,

that was Words of Affirmation.)

. . . . .

Bringing out the big guns... or rather, heels.

Let me introduce you to my 3 hour shoes.

I call them my 3 hour shoes because that is the amount of time I can wear them until my arches start to fail me and I begin to walk like a arthritic grandma who's had too much to drink... and that's just not a pretty sight at all.

I realize I'll never make the cut of America's Next Top Model with this 3 hour time limit. So I'm trying to build up the stamina so I can wear these shoes all day. They at least deserve that. Don't be surprised if you come to my house and you see me in sweats and a t-shirt vacuuming the house with these bad boys on. No pain. No gain.

Nate and I had some sa-weet plans last friday night with two other couples from his work, so naturally I did what any woman in my situation would do... called my cute little 12 year old neighbor girl to do my hair and stole all of my friends hot mama jewelry (because it's all about the accessories this season)... (I truly have no idea what I'm talking about)

We went out to eat at an extremely nice restaurant. Like, out of my league restaurant.

A restaurant where there was an item on the menu that didn't show a price, but said FINANCING AVAILABLE in its place.

A restaurant where the waiter asks you what you want to eat and you say, "I'll have that item on the menu that I can't pronounce... sir." followed by a, "wee, wee" because it sounds fancier.

A restaurant where you quietly ask the waiter if you can get a to-go box and then descretely whisper in his ear, "Do people do that here?"

A restaurant where they have valet parking and you're (meaning me) super embarrassed to drive your old beat up mini van that's being held together by a bungie cord.

So out of desperation you (again, meaning ME) call one of the couples that you're going with and ask if they'll drive instead.

And then as luck would have it, that couple that was kind enough to let you carpool with them, but instead of driving their nice new minivan they decide to drive their old beater minivan. And then you laugh because life is just comedic like that.

But the best part is when you show up to this nice restaurant and the third couple arrives and you laugh about valet parking your old beat up cars (while others are parking their Jaguars) and that couple tops it off with, "Oh, ya. You think that's funny? How about pulling up to the valet parking and telling the guy who's going to drive your car to be careful because the only way to get your car into reverse is to stick a screwdriver into the driving console and wiggle it just a bit."

And I admit, that was pretty funny... but mostly because it wasn't me trying to explain the art of driving with the screw driver to the valet parking attendant.

. . . . .

The night was wonderful. The food was awesome. The atmosphere was second to none.

The company was unbeatable. And the heels were slammin'.

But the best part about it? Did I mention we didn't have to pay for it?

FREE and I are, like, the best of buds.

Taking a picture in the restaurant on a cell phone with my girl Lezlee.

Another classy move on my part.

So classy that the husbands pretended like they didn't know us.

. . . . .