2 am

For those of you who have been reading this blog since the beginning, you know that I spent the last year and a half in the South for a school. As of this month I AM BACK NORTH! hooray! Not that I didn't love all that the South had to offer, but I prefer the North.

However, moving back is an ordeal in itself... please note that Husband has been living as a bachelor (oh, me too) up here for some time. He (and me) is very set in his routine, especially when it comes to the "right before bed" routine. Teeth brushing-normal, face washing-normal, all that other stuff- normal. It's the next part that gets tough to decide whose "way" is better.

We have baseboard heating in each room, so I like to turn the heater to ehhhh 70 (I mean it IS 20 degrees outside). Husband likes it cold, really cold. The kind of cold you need 6 blankets just to keep from getting frost-bite. I think the other night I saw my breath, or a ghost, I was nearing hypothermia so I am not exactly sure. We tried (are still using) a DUAL control heated mattress pad (whoever invented that should get some sort of medal-genius). I usually have mine on high and my dearest husband has his off. Poor guy still gets hot, because the heat from mine radiates through the whole bed.

So, the past couple of nights we put the heat (or lack of heat) the way he wanted... Icicles on my eyelashes, fingers numb until two in the afternoon the next day, and I am pretty sure "Buddy the Elf" stopped by mistake-thinking it was the North Pole. BUT we did it his way. Eventually, I did fall asleep and husband slept like a dog laying in his favorite sunny spot (weird dog reference from the weird dog person).

Tonight we put the heat where I wanted it... 70 degrees and sunny! It was glorious, for the first three hours. Until I realized that he was NOT the only one that enjoys the arctic tundra to sleep in. As I type in our 70 degree room, the dogs are snoring LOUDLY and they have changed positions so many times that they are both now by the door, far away from the heater. My husband is breathing heavily, he seems to be gasping for air in the pleasant tropic I have created. All this noise, I can't sleep, not to mention I feel guilty for their poor night of sleep.

Oh beautiful Hawaiian Tropic it looks as though I will not see you until summer. It's 2am, time to hop back on the Polar Express, back under 6 blankets and enjoy my side of the heated mattress pad, on high of course!

How great is Shutterfly?

So, Shutterfly is doing this awesome 50 free photo Christmas cards to blog about your experience with them! How fun, I get to tell everyone about how great they are... well let me tell you.
Last year Drew and I made Shutterfly photo books for each of our grandparents of pictures from our wedding. They were a big hit, and Drew is awesome with computer things so it looked fabulous! He was able to customize each book for each set of grandparents.
When my husband and I got engaged, my mom had an engagement party for us! Tons of great photos, my cousin Sara made the cutest book, with quotes and everything she then gave it to us after our wedding. Sara did not get a chance to come to our wedding, since she was DUE literally that day! I secretly hoped she would have Sophia on my wedding day, I would have loved sharing that day with my second cousin. And we could have sent Thank You cards and Birth Announcements in the same week.
Our Honey Moon was in Hawaii, I still have those pictures on the computer. I have not had time to choose the ones I like best. I know that when I do sit down to do it my plan is to use Shutterfly, since they deliver to your door!
One thing I have never done, is the photo Christmas cards. I am so excited to see how they turn out!
Thank You Shutterfly!

for my brother

My brother is in the entertainment business, I normally would not post and advertisement, but I am extremely proud of him! So here goes... My brother is singing with Paul McCartney tomorrow night:-) You can click here and get the show! You might have to have an account, but I am not sure. If I get a better link I will post it.

SiriusXM Radio Presents
PAUL MCCARTNEY
A Private SiriusXM Subscriber Event
Monday, December 13 at 8 p.m.

...International superstar Paul McCartney performs live before an invited audience at the Apollo Theater. This invitation-only concert is a special “thank you” from SiriusXM to their subscribers. The legend plans to perform selections from his solo career and other familiar tunes.

The event will be simulcast on five SiriusXM channels including the month-long limited channel “Paul McCartney’s Band on the Run Radio,” as well as Howard 101, Classic Vinyl, The Coffee House and ‘70s on 7.

Between now and the days leading up to the concert, SiriusXM Radio will host contests for their subscribers to win limited tickets. You must have been a SiriusXM subscriber continually since November 15, 2010 to participate. For details, visit www.sirius.com.

the onion torch has been passed

It looks like the "chopping onions" torch has been passed... My youngest sister in now the Onion Chopping Queen:) Those Birth Control Goggles (I mean Onion Chopping Goggles) are pretty snazzy huh?

The un-Scrooge.

yeah I wrote... stay tuned for list of things I LOVE about the Holidays. I can say that the list is very long. I narrowed it down...

1. Holiday Grog- The GROG, to explain the grog... imagine a constant dance party in the middle of the kitchen. No, not choreographed (my hips don't lie) dancing, but the grog does end in endless dance parties. I think maybe this year I’ll get my mom on video... I bet my blog hits sky-rocket haha (I can't remember what is in the Grog but it's warm and yummy liquid)

2. Santa- I was the oldest of 5 kids. I was the first one to get in on the secret of Santa, and that meant eating the cookies. They were always the best ones too. All my siblings thought they were going to a kind old gentleman named Santa, Sorry folks they were headed towards your older sisters’ gut! ha!

3. Jesus- he is the reason for Christmas, and I am glad God sent his son down to earth for us. He is good.

4. Egg Nog- Not sure if you read my post about Egg Nog, but for YEARS my mother convinced us that if you even "tasted" her Egg Nog you would surely grow chest hair. I still get nervous when I drink a glass, but I do love the taste... is chest hair on a girl that unattractive??

5. Turkey Trot- Thanksgiving morning we run/walk the turkey trot that the Rotary Club my uncle belongs to Sponsors. It's not the running part I enjoy, it's that everyone in the family gets out to exercise, so we have an excuse to overeat and sleep on the couch all evening.

6. Leftovers- People! LEFTOVERS! My Aunt does not plan to cook for the amount of
people that are coming to the house, she cooks for double that. The goal is not to eat all of it but to have leftovers for days. It's to help keep the feeling of thanksgiving around just a little bit longer:)

7. Black Friday- It is a ritual; the ladies in the family get up at 0'dark thirty and head to the stores. We are always the first ones at the Dunkin Donuts Drive Thru preparing ourselves for the day ahead. Growing up it was sort of a rite of passage, you were officially a "woman" when you were allowed to go shopping with the girls.

8. Exchanging Names- I love this. We exchange names right before Thanksgiving to buy a present for the other sibling for Christmas. BUT every YEAR without fail we all forget who we picked and end up buying for everyone anyways. ha!

9. Men doing dishes- Thanksgiving tradition. The Men do dishes after the big meal:)

10. The Holidays in general...

I'm NOT a Scrooge

I am not a very big fan of SOME things that go on during the Holiday Season. I am not a Scrooge by any means, but the things that I really don't find enjoyable are:

1. Chopping Onions (oh and grating cheese)- now I know you’re wondering what this has to do with the holidays- let me explain. EVERY STINKIN' recipe my Mom (and Aunt) makes at Thanksgiving has onions! I feel like we chop onions for days. (Ok, so I usually hide out until my sister gets suckered into it, then I conveniently make myself available for other kitchen duties.)

2. Buying Presents- I LOVE MAKING presents, but buying I hate... I hate the idea that you buy something for someone and you keep the receipt so they can return it if they don't like it. I mean what is the point of a gift if you can return it? I have resorted to giving gift certificates, to those hard to please gift receivers. I don’t have to worry about whether or not they will return the gift later; they can spend their money in the way they choose.

3. Tree Hunting- I honestly HATE being cold. I also don't like getting a tree that will die in a few weeks... I also don't like flowers for this reason, how sad they live for a few days in your house and die, (I had no flowers at my wedding either for this reason).

4. Buying Christmas Wrapping Paper- My Aunt always wraps our gifts on thick sheets of brown paper and I LOVE THAT. She wraps it in fancy ribbon and it looks great. I always want to use that same idea, but I am a procrastinator and usually I have to run out to the store and buy whatever cheesy wrapping paper is available.

5. Christmas Lists- I don't mind getting a Christmas list from someone, but I HATE writing a list of things I want.

Stay tuned for the Things I LOVE about the Holiday Season...

the dog he never wanted

Remember the post when I talked about giving up the 20 year dream of a pot-belly pig for my dog Molly. Well, about a month ago I was able to head home and bring Molly with me. It was the first time Drew was able to meet Molly. What had happened was...
Let me explain Drew and his experience with animals. Drew did not grow up with any sort of animals. Our first dog, I got when I was dating my husband and took his opinion (absolutely no dog) very lightly. We were JUST dating and although it was in the back of my mind that he would be my husband someday. I was not SURE, so I got makenzie our lab/basset hound mix. Which after time, Drew soon fell in love with her.
For those of you that know me, I AM one of those WEIRD dog people. Not really weird, I dont refer to her as my "fur" kid or anything, but I love her just the same. The newest addition Molly is a super super sweet boxer mix and you all know I fell in love immediately, hence the begging and pinky swears that took place with my most loving husband. Drew had claimed he wasn't sure if he had room to include her in our lives and that she might be ignored, in order to make sure makenzie our first dog doesn't feel slighted. yeah yeah Drew right....
Drew has rules about dogs on furniture (especially our bed) the rule is NO DOGS. I will say I agree, but I am not a very good disciplinarian when it comes down to it.

Anyways, the one evening i came upstairs to find my husband with our newest dog Molly...


Yes, there he is snuggling with her, in bed! What happened to the NO DOG rule?? huh??
Of course a few weeks later we went kayaking with my cousins, and Drew wanted Molly on his kayak the whole time, so they could bond.


So, I guess Drews love IS big enough for two dogs. I have a feeling I may be able to convince him otherwise on the pot-belly pig issue, what do you think??

Skinny jeans

Have you noticed the boy’s now-a-days wear “skinny Jeans”, it is the strangest thing…. They went from wearing baggy jeans to stay in style to now wearing tight pants like the girls. I am not for or against this; I am not sure where I sit on this style. I mean which is worse; pants so tight you can see everything or pants so loose you can well- see everything? Both my little brothers for a while caught onto this style. It was weird at Christmas, when my youngest brother was wearing the same jean size as me and our gifts were mixed up. I am just glad he didn’t get the same pink sweater that I received from “Santa”. That would have been realllll awkward huh?  The most hysterical part about the skinny jean thing is when my youngest sister, who is the middle child, says to my sister and I that she was so happy when we moved out because no one would borrow her clothes anymore.  And in walks my youngest brother, wearing HER jeans.

less likely to scream like girls

This one is about a movie or I should say a movie theater. Not just any movie but the 3rd movie of the twilight series, I will admit I am an avid fan of the twilight series. I think it has something to do with fitting in with the current group of ladies that I hang with, no not pre-pubescent teenagers (wouldn’t that be awkward?). They are all my age, and just as into the silliness as I am. I had never gotten into any of the Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings, but twilight, yep. I am what teenagers call “Team Jacob”, what can I say I like animals? Who doesn’t like werewolves with no shirts? Although Edward is tempting with his pale skin and bony “I survived a 40 day fast” look, his cold heart turns me away. I would NOT be admitting this if it did not lead to an extremely amusing story. But it DOES…. What had happened was…

I drove with a few friends to the local movie theater with the intention of seeing Predator. Yeah, I was going to waste 9 dollars on a “B” movie, awesome. I head up to the counter and it’s sold out!! No worries on my part, I had plan B, go see Eclipse the 3rd movie in the twilight series. I stroll to my movie with one of my friends wife as we giggle furiously entering the theater. There is only ONE way to watch any twilight movie and that is to pretend you are back in the 8th grade swooning over each and every character. And all swooning involves giggling and covering your eyes at “inappropriate” parts. And of course screaming each and every time your favorite character comes on the screen with dramatic background music playing. And in this movie it happens about every 6 minutes. That’s a whole bunch in 2 hour and 4 minute movie. So in true twilight mania fashion I screamed whenever Jacob was on, yes, yes, I know your thinking I represent everything cool in America. I assure you, I do.

In one scene in particular, Jacob was looking extra stud-muffinish in his cut off jean shorts and of course no shirt, werewolves I guess don’t wear shirts. Something about the money it cost to repair them each time they turn from human form to werewolf, the shirt rips? Who knows? All the girls start screaming (me included), the scene ends… and none of the girls about 15 rows behind me stop screaming. They continue, and then the boys sitting next to them start screaming?? I being the “not nosy at all person” turn around and look to see a wave of people getting up and standing on their chairs. I mean, the scene was good, but not that good? Then the next row starts getting up and screaming, there were dads chaperoning their children standing on their seats and screaming. After about 3 minutes of this wave action and high-pitched commotion, logic says that I should include myself in this fun. I was just getting ready to position myself on the chair and start screaming. I place my foot down, just in time to see a mouse round the corner of my row and start scurrying towards me. It dawned on me; this was the culprit that was causing such uproar! To me it was no big deal… and by no big deal I grabbed my purse, popcorn and soda, and I stood on my chair and screamed until the mouse was past my location. I also put in a few extra piercing garbled noises for good measure, in case it thought it was a good idea to come back to my row. I continued the rest of the movie with my feet up and all belongings in my lap, the mouse never returned. I am fairly certain it was due to the EXTRA noises I made during his (the mouse’) first popcorn run of the twilight movie.

I have a feeling that mouse learned his lesson interrupting a twilight movie,I bet next time he picks the movie predator... those guys are less likely to scream like girls.

the pitchfork

There is a debate about how children are affected by cartoons. When I was growing up the big debate was Looney Toons, my mom played into the “don’t let your kids watch LooneyToons because it’s violent.” And rightly so, I was completely affected by cartoons… If a cartoon could do it, when why couldn’t I???? and that brings me to one of MANY stories. The thing is; my parents DID NOT let us watch cartoons but all of our friends parents did. Ha! What had happened was…

My sister and I used to help clean out horse stables (yeah, I picked up horse manure), so that we could get horseback riding lessons. We had watched LooneyToons earlier that day involving Wiley Coyote and the Road Runner, you know how the Road Runner was always “outsmarting” the Coyote? This episode in particular involved the Road runner putting a Pitchfork on the ground, hopeful the Coyote would run up, step on it and it would hit the coyote in the face. And yep the coyote did just that…. Stars spun around his face and he was back up in a few seconds.

With that being said, we had a pitchfork in hand and concluded we should step on it really hard and then catch it before it hit us in the head. We stopped all work and began working on our plan. First things first go to an empty horse stall in the back, so no ADULTS would catch us goofing off. Then make sure we stopped giggling at our new and “awesome” idea, so again no one would hear us. Man ohhh man did we think we were hysterical. Placed the pitchfork on the ground (laughed a bunch more) and I got ready to slam my foot on it and had my hands ready to catch it!

BAM…. Foot slammed down and my hands are wide open. At this point all of you are probably thinking this can’t turn out well, and you are correct. It did not turn out well. In fact, there was no reason to even put my hands out…. Because, I slammed the pitchfork through my foot. Yes, there I was one rusty pitchfork prong shoved up through my boot into the top and out the other side. I look at Alicia wide eyed and debate the situation. I don’t know why, but, she and I decided the best course of action would be to pull the thing out and continue on working. I think I was in shock at this point because I can’t even tell you that it hurt, I didn’t scream or even wince. I just pulled the pitchfork out, went back up to the stall we were working in and continued with the day.

It was not until about an hour later, we went to the owner to tell her we were done, that I even noticed that my boot was FULL of blood and dripping through the seams. The owner of the place called my dad and my step mom, took off my boot and questioned what happened. Alicia and I pretended we didn’t even know what happened, we said we thought I might have stepped on something but we weren’t sure. How can you NOT be sure that you had something go through your foot and now you are bleeding profusely?? Anyways, she believed us gave me first Aid and I think my dad took me to the hospital to get a tetanus shot. In fact I really can’t remember much of the rest of the day… I lost quite a bit of blood.

So, in conclusion, I was absolutely influenced by TV and all that it had to offer.

-dad, you may be hearing the real story for the first time…..?
-and uhhh my foot is fine now.

Wrinkles

I was 19 or so when I walked into a cosmetic store looking for acne cream/lotion/wash, anything to get rid of my acne. I walked straight up to the lady and said, ma'am I need your best of everything to get rid of this acne. It's sad, I had beautiful skin all the way through high school, and right after that it went downhill. boooo! The lady looks at me and in her "not so American" accent she says, "Acne will go away, but what you need to work on is your wrinkles". I am 19 and wrinkles are what I should be worried about? Since she was ancient and had very wrinkle free skin, I was convinced she was right! So, instead of acne products I bought the best of all the wrinkle creams,serums and washes she had to offer. As you can see, I am sold easily by anyone who is willing to convince me to buy something (especially at 19).

So, now here I am at age 26 and I use my wrinkle products as often as I brush my teeth (twice daily). I am afraid if I don’t use them the lady from that store will hunt me down and ask me why I am NOT using those wrinkle products. Anyways that brings me to a little story…What had happened was…

I was in the bathroom doing all of my daily rituals, teeth brushing, and face washing makeup and of course applying the infamous “wrinkle cream”. When my four year old niece prances in, looks at me and says…

4 year old niece: “Hey, aunt Mandy. What are you doing?

Me: “Well, little lady. I am putting on my wrinkle cream.”

4 year old niece: (crinkled up nose) “Why?”

Me: “Because aunt Mandy NEEDS it”

4 year old niece: (head moving side to side, the look of disgust on her face in her most know it all 4yr old voice) “oh, you have to use wrinkle cream? Grammy doesn't need cream to make her wrinkles"

As she walks out of the bathroom she gives me a look of – I TOLD YOU!

I’ll leave it at that… I guess at 4 years old they have the world figured out for sure. Ha!

pinky swear

In the third grade I went to a state fair (where I have no idea), but I was drawn to this one event “racing” potbelly pigs. I saw it in the brochure, on TV and there was a big sign for it, I am a sucker for high-quality advertising. I attended this fine function of potbelly pig racing, and fully enjoyed every moment of it. Children were called out of the audience and allowed to choose who they thought would win, and if your pig won you received a ribbon. I was chosen out of the crowd, AND my pig won! This is where my LOVE for Potbelly pigs began. I have read 100’s of books, I have “googled” it more than any other topic… I am now 26 years old and still find myself in love with potbelly pigs. Before I married my husband he made a deal with me, if there was ever a chance we could not have kids or adopt, that he would let me get a potbelly pig at age 35. Really only 9 more years until my dream may become a reality, I am hoping that kids are in the future but if not at least I get a good consolation prize!

I love all animals (ok maybe not snakes) but pretty much I love all animals. With that being said, we have a dog named Mackenzie and more recently a dog named Molly. Molly came around about 2 weeks ago but she came with a price. I am not talking about a price tag, but more of a deal breaker. I have been going to the local dog shelter for quite a few months, to look at all the dogs. Pedigree dog food is running an intense public notice campaign on TV and every time I see the commercials I cry.



I am lame I know… it tells you to “adopt a shelter dog” and like I said before, I am a sucker for high quality advertising. Molly showed up at the dog shelter 4 days before I visited, and I went there with intention of just “loving” the dogs like I had done several times before. I walked in and saw Molly and fell in love! I called my husband and of course he was not so into it. He made me sleep and pray on it and think about how our lives would be in five years, if we had kids would we be able to handle all of it. So, I slept and prayed and all answers pointed to YES! The next day I walked out of the pet shelter with Molly.

Molly price tag was this…

Husband: (after making me sleep and pray on it) “Amanda, if you get this dog then the deal about the potbelly pig at age 35 and no kids is off.”

Me: (thinking that I could probably change his mind years down the road) “yeah sure of course”

Husband: “Amanda, I am serious… pinky swear over the phone to me”

Me: (pinky swear ahhhh he is for real now!) “ok I pinky swear”

Husband: “one word about the pig and Molly goes back to the dog pound”

Me: ok….

So, molly I pinky swore over you and gave up my 20 year dream of owning a pig! I hope you are worth it…. So far week 2, she is!

-I should state in Husbands defense, he puts up with tons of my “new” ideas. I call him at least 3 times a week excited about a new business, life or house venture. He has to make me think through all my ideas or else we would have house projects, random pets and several different businesses open. It’s a fact I am just bursting with ideas that I can’t finish.

Coffee Snob

I am a Drinker of Coffee... There are many wonderful things to start your day with, but my favorite is a extremely delicious cup of coffee. Now, I know a few of you are NOT drinkers of the dark liquid I call goodness, but maybe after this you might be willing to take another chance. What had happened was this...

I have been drinking coffee since about the age of 10, my mom used to tell us it would stunt our growth and not allow us to drink it. However, what happens when you tell a kid (in particular me) NOT to do something? You guessed it... Do It! So my coffee drinking started as pure defiance towards my Mom. I can remember chugging big gulps of my mom’s coffee, when she would leave her cups in various spots through the house. The strangest thing is, back then, it was disgusting. I am talking about tar and paint mixed in with cream disgusting. None the less I continued sneaking sips. It took some time, but eventually it was my drink of choice. I never had a preference for any particular brand or type, drip coffee, whole bean, ground, wawa vs. starbucks, iced or hot. I just knew that a cup of coffee was something to be enjoyed, no matter the route it took to get to my hands. My reasons for drinking coffee went through a growing stage with me. I went from defiance, to staying up late to finish “not ever on time” projects in college, getting married and enjoying a cup with my husband and just drinking it out of habit. More recently however, I have been brought to an entirely NEW type of coffee. FRENCH PRESS COFFEE, I have been drinking it for the past 10 months, it’s like drinking a warm cup of delightfulness. I introduced it to my mother-in-law over Christmas, her being a “sworn for life TEA drinker” has drifted over into the realm of French Press Coffee. I have been shown a finer coffee market and it has completely ruined my love affair with all other forms of coffee. It does NOT matter what variety of coffee goes into the French Press, it matters that it is made in the French Press! I had not pegged this as a problem until my recent trip home; I spent several hours on the road and stopped for coffee. I, Amanda, confess… I threw out 3 cups of coffee! The taste of coffee NOT made in a French Press was dreadful. The thing is, my husband and I set aside 20 dollars a month for fancy coffee drinks (since I LOVE coffee so much) and I, in fact, threw 9 dollars of that away! I never thought it possible but I have become a glorified COFFEE SNOB!

Disclaimer: Dear Husband, I was still under budget for coffee this month!

I will never settle for Subway.

There are no words to describe my love for this place... that which we call Chik-fil-A. Enjoy!

Since it is Mothers Day... This one is for YOU Mom.

Dear Mom,

Words will never really express the things you have taught me but I sure can try. I decided a list is the best course of action...

1.Mom you taught me to love unconditionally. I was amazed when I was a teenager (and way too cool for the family) that you let Dad leave the house in Cowboy Boots and a Cowboy Hat. I was super embarrassed, because we were NOT from the Wild West (try telling that to dad). He wore that stuff as if he were in the movie Tombstone and that he needed to be prepared for a shootout at any moment. I wanted to die, but you just let him go out and you continued to love him and his love for John Wayne. That is true and unconditional love.

2.You taught me to dance like no one is watching. Really, my dance moves can only be described as “dear lord, please make sure no one is watching me”. You showed me that all you have to do is close your eyes add in the “finger point” and wiggle your legs a little, and then it’s a dance. Usually you add in a small bit of Holiday Glug, and also a little “rap” music and life is good! Just dance!

3.You taught me that tin foil does NOT go in the microwave, it will blow up and it will cause the microwave to stop working.

4.You taught me that Burnt Food can be fixed with a knife and some creativity. No food is too burnt to scrape or cut off the “burnt” part with a knife. If the food is only burnt on one side flip it upside down and add KETCHUP! Your trick works all the time

5.You taught me that if my car is making really weird noises it’s not a big deal all you really have to do is Turn UP the volume on the music. You are right mom, the noise goes away!

6.You taught me that I SHOULD NEVER EVER trust a map, compass or GPS. Seriously, we have been able to see most of the countryside due to this. I know that if the GPS says to go one way, that I should miss that turn and take the next one, because my instincts are far greater than any satellite technology. If my compass says North I am surely going South!

7.You taught me about the 3 “F’s” in life. FORCED FAMILY FUN. (The name says it all… my parents called everything fun, yeah mom doing dishes is sooooo fun).

8.You taught me that Egg Nog WILL put hair on your chest. I wish I had figured out sooner that you told us that Egg Nog would put hair on your chest to keep all of us kids from drinking your Egg Nog. It is a little weird when I find myself still looking down to make sure I have no chest hairs any time I drink Egg Nog. (Mike wanted chest hairs, so your trick only worked a little)

9.You taught me that if any one says my first AND middle name, I am in serious trouble. Basically, if I hear my middle name, me and Jesus need to become quick friends… start praying because I am in over my head and Jesus is the only thing that will save me.

10.You taught me that as long as you have your very ferocious Labrador retriever, a glass of wine and a butter knife, it is OK to chase after “potential” car/house thieves. (of course only if you’re in your pajamas)

Most importantly mom, you have taught me that I can’t take myself too seriously. Life does get rough, but finding the humor and the good side in everything is really what it’s about.

Amanda

Priorities

This morning I woke up, got dressed for church and as usual I was running 10 minutes behind schedule. So, I run down the stairs and go to grab my keys... and behold, my keys were NOT where I normally put them. Now, let me explain where "Normal" is, it’s the first place I set my keys when I walk in the door i.e. kitchen counter, laundry room, or again anywhere. I DO have a key rack, but I haven't learned to use that. I have a tendency to lose my keys often. I usually walk in the door and announce to my husband where I am putting them, so that when I need them later he can tell me where they are. (Note: Husband was not present for this key-finding adventure). I began looking for my keys and I was more than late for church at this point. I then decided to go to the second service, no big deal. I continued searching for another hour and missed the second church service. I was feeling pretty frustrated and annoyed at my lack of organizational skills. I thought about everyplace I had been the day before; bed, couch, bed(as you can see my Saturday was very productive). I had class at 1 and I really needed to find them! I cleaned my room, the kitchen and started cleaning under all the furniture. STILL NO KEYS! I could not find them. So 1:10 rolled around and without keys I could not go to class. SO... in TRUE Amanda fashion I decided to wallow in self pity while eating a bowl of chocolate peanut butter ice-cream. I get into the freezer for the ice-cream and what do I see? MY KEYS! Sitting on top of the carton of ice-cream I bought yesterday to help with my extremely productive day. I guess when I walked in yesterday the freezer was my “normal” place to put them. You can see where my priorities lie.

Hot Wings

And so it seems that I must share this story (oh little brother of mine, how I know you will enjoy). My youngest brother has been quite a "ham" since the day he was born, I think he came out of the womb dancing and singing. Literally, we would get in an elevator and there was my little brother in his stroller dancing. He claimed (at age 3) that when he heard music he couldn't help that his body wanted to dance. He is pretty much the center of attention anywhere he goes and of course at the dinner table. And THAT is how I come to this story, what had happened was…

We were enjoying a family dinner, my brother was very young, old enough to eat HOT wings but not old enough to keep from getting hot sauce all over him. He did his usual, move around the table, touch everything and cause mom to send him upstairs, to start running the water, and get in the bathtub. So, my brother, I'll call him "M" to protect the guilty, runs up the stairs and starts the water. The rest of the family continued hot wing consumption, the water stopped and mom called up to the little man to get undressed and wait until she got up there to get in. No sooner than 30 seconds later... here comes "M" SCREAMING and NAKED down the stairs! I am talking full speed, full out crying and a look of horror on his face! He hopped around downstairs (still fully unclothed) and kept screaming, pointing towards his "nether region”. What do you get when a little kid gets undressed and has HOT sauce all over his hands? You've got it, he was in the stage of being VERY interested in his "parts", so with the hot sauce all over his hands he also got it all over "down there" and not realizing what it was, he kept grabbing himself in pain only making it worse. I am sure he was in pain, but at the same time his dramatic tendencies caused us not to respond as quickly as we should have. After a few minutes of hopping around screaming, my mom fortunately took action. “M” continued crying, while my mom helped him up to the tub, while still yelling that his “wenis” was on fire. The rest of us, per usual in any comical situation… Laughed.

So the moral of the story is… well there isn’t one.

Dear Cooking (we need to talk)

Dear Cooking,

My roommate down here in the “south” (disclaimer she is NOT from the south), finds you soothing. I however find you quit torturous. Yes, that’s right torturous! You make me feel inadequate and unloved. If things don’t change… well then I am not sure this relationship will last.

I am aware that you make most food bearable to eat (raw hamburger meat doesn’t sound so tasty) but the hassle you put me through is rough.

Let’s start with a recipe, why do you insist on involving math… conversion tables? What’s a pinch and why do we need 1/3 cup of whatever strange ingredient you have mustered up today. Can’t we just call it an even cup? Is there any particular reason you prefer Hershey’s chocolate vs. Godiva? Why are there so many brands of one ingredient?

And Pans? Really do I need a whole set? I think one pan is enough, maybe two simply because I’m lazy and don’t want to wash the other one right away! I like a good sink full of dishes (really, I do, it means I attempted cooking). There should be no pans without Teflon, all the other kinds usually end in some sort of flame.

Ohhhh and how about temperatures, I don’t believe you when you say 5 degrees will make a difference. I like rounding numbers to the next hundred, my life would be sooo much easier without you!

Why why why?!! Do you leave 14 spoons laying out on the counter-tops, making me taste you every five minutes adding serious mass to my rear-end! I don’t know if you grasp this, but I have to fit into my bathing suite this summer.

I would also like to know why, when you decide dinner is ready that you must loudly announce it with the smoke alarm… the neighbors do NOT need to know when we are eating. Can’t you calmly send your aroma through the house and entice others to come down and say “wow, that smells delicious, what are you cooking?” instead I get “what the heck are you doing the stove is on fire!!!” I realize the stove is on fire, that’s why I have the fan blowing and I am hopping up and down screaming at it. And eating with the doors wide open to get the stench of the burnt food out of the house is not pleasurable, the middle of winter in particular.

I am aware that you are trying to make my life easier with recipes of tasty deliciousness… but could you tone it down a little. No conversion tables, no pans without Teflon, no weight gain and seriously can we cut it out with the smoke alarms… If you are willing to work on these issues I can see us having a lasting relationship, until then our future is looking desolate.

let's talk,

Amanda

I'll try to answer this one

There many philosophical questions that need to be answered...

Who came first, the chicken or the egg?

If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around, does it make a noise?


but the most important one of all is:


Just how many licks does it take to get to the chewy center of a Tootsie Roll Pop????

No really, how many licks?? I can't actually figure this out. This question has been on my mind since, umm forever. Every time I get close to figuring it out, I bite it! I tried "googling" it to see who else has figured it out, but here are the conclusions I have come up with...

1. It depends on the size of your mouth, and the roughness on your tongue.

2. The Tootsie Roll Owl only took 3 licks (I would guess he had a rough tongue)

3. What you consider a lick??
example: Letting my mom take a lick of my ice cream cone, when I was little, was very different than when my sister took a lick. Moms lick resembled that of a giraffe licking around the whole cone. My sisters lick resembled a dog biting/licking the whole top.

4. What flavor? Your favorite vs. Your not so favorite flavor

5. Are you a "real man/woman" who follows through with projects, and licks it 'til the end?

6. Or are you a bit like me... start a project and leave the unfinished product around for your husband to finish (cause he hates unfinished projects)

7. Are you part of the populous that likes the Tootsie Roll Pop for its chewy tootsie core or do you lean towards the tasty shell?

8. It depends on your mood, time of day, and your destination. If you have a meeting or a child you need to attend to, more than likely you will rush to get to the inside of the Pop. Feeling lazy... not so much.


Basically this is a question that can't be answered... there are too many variables. Each experience is a little different and personal. So next time you lick/bite into a Tootsie Roll Pop, take into account all of the different factors and let me know about your Tootsie Pop Experience!

Just How many licks does it take to get to the chewy center of a Tootsie Roll Pop???

The World will NEVER know!

How did he get the front seat?

So, here goes... for those of you who know me, you know I am currently living in the south. When I say south, I am referring to the real south. The place where directions from locals actually contain things like "follow the dirt road to the end" and "make a right at the white sign that you can't read the words". I am from up north where roads are marked with numbers and the way to get anywhere is by following a highway. Unless you are going camping your destination will never be at the end of any dirt road. So, back to me being in the south.

I was driving more "south" than I already am (if that is possible) down a slightly paved road, when I noticed a very stylish pick-up truck behind me. I am pretty sure it did not have a bumper or working windows and possibly no floor from rust. The man driving it was wearing no shirt and was riding my tail like it may have been his second job. I started to get a little nervous (young girl out of state, alone) thinking maybe I was going to be his next victim. Anyways, I kept speeding up and he kept getting closer (don't freak out mom I am writing this so I am safe). I realized then that he was just trying to pass, phew, thank God! As I see him barrel by me, I notice that there in the front passengers seat is a pot-belly pig, hanging his head out the window wearing a confederate flag bandanna collar around his neck, hilarious! Ok, it gets better, (seriously not sure how it could get any better) but it does. So this very stylish truck blazes by me and I realize in the bed of the truck there is a little boy peeking his head up. The pet pig actually got a better seat than the little boy did!! I think this kid was about eight years old. Now as comical as this was I was also nervous for the little guy. The man driving the truck was NOT going slow! I am curious though, at what point does an adult decide that putting your pet pig in the front passenger seat is the ok? and leaving your kid in the back is the best option?

Maybe the pet pig called "shot-gun" for the front seat... and you can't go back on a pig that calls "shot-gun", we all know the rules.

A Christian Bumper Sticker?

I have been contemplating the idea of putting a Christian bumper sticker on my car. I have actually been thinking about this for the last year or so. The thing is, I want everyone to know I AM a christian and that Jesus has saved me. I want it to spark interest with someone who doesn't know Jesus. The dilemma is this... I often speed and by often I mean every time I drive. I always forget my blinker for some reason this makes other drivers not appreciate my awesome driving capabilities. I have been pulled over so many times, they run together. The only police officer I actually remember is Officer Geraldo (I only remember his name because of Geraldo Rivera). I have not received tickets for all of these, but the few I have, seem to hit my purse very hard. Patience is not something that I have, I pray for it all the time and just when I think I am getting it. Behold my impatient fleshy self comes to the front! My husband also drives my car and I think his middle name is "impatience", he's annoyed when people drive slowly or walk slowly across the street. He stalks people as if they are his prey to get the best parking spot in the parking area. Although he does drive this way, I must include that in his daily life with me he is VERY patient. I am often amazed at how patient he is, sometimes I frustrate myself with my own emotions, but he is consistently loving and calm. I just feel as if the way we drive is not showing patience towards others, not the way God wants us to be. Patience is mentioned pretty often in the Bible, and its a virtue I would love to have. With Gods help, I think in the future we will be able to put that bumper sticker on the car and show patience towards others. Until then I guess, the verdict is... no bumper sticker.

I Really had no idea?

I didn't know that starting a blog would take this much time. I won't blame it on the amount of time it takes to post, but I would like to blame it on the time it takes to find a blog layout that suits your personality. I have no idea what sort of layout would explain my personality, although I can imagine my sisters could probably give me some of their thoughts on that. I spent some time browsing through layouts and nothing struck me as something to represent me or my blog. I hope to be inspired soon.

I Never Imagined

I honestly never thought that I would have a Blog. Not ever, I have about 20 journals that I have received through the years, and usually I write on page one before I decide that its tedious and not worth my time. I would really like to look back and read about everything I have done, written in my own words, impossible. Each "page 1" in every journal is a little like this... Dear (insert some crazy name I've decided to call my journal this time), I promise I am going to write in you every day. That is where it ends. I am curious, what would I have written? What was important to me then? I am pretty sure I would have written it like Harriet the Spy, she had it all... A secret notebook and a Magnifying Glass, she would write all sorts of clues in her notebook and solve big cases. I know a journal is not about solving cases, but maybe finding clues as to who you were, and why you are who you are today. So, I guess this is my first entry in my blog, if I call it a blog I might look at it differently and write more often. I won't fill page one and forget about it; I hope.