I’m such a follower.

Have you ever done something and thought “Why am I doing this???”  Yeah. Me too.  Really recently, in fact.

A few weeks ago, I was teasing my friend Melanie about her online gaming.  When I say “online gaming”, I am not referring to the “World of Warcraft” types of games that my darling brother plays.  No, I’m talking about the far more pointless – albeit no less addicting -  variety,  like Farmville and 4Square. 

Melanie’s (and at least half a dozen other folks’) Farmville updates clog up my Facebook newsfeed.  This I find humorous because I have nothing to do with virtual agriculture or livestock.  Nothing, I say.  Nada.  So, I couldn’t resist ribbing my dear friend when her little thumbnail Google maps started flooding in on top of her pleas for help with her manure shoveling duties…or whatever it is you people do in Farmville. 

And then, in a moment I’m not proud of, I downloaded that silly app to my Blackberry, and now I’m checkin’ in all over town.  

“Why on Earth am I playing this silly game?” I ask myself regularly.

Today alone was worth it.  Now, I am truly hooked.

The Girlies and I had to make a quick run to Target for some eye make-up remover and a new water filter for my coffee maker.   A trip, by the way, that AMAZINGLY cost me UNDER $30!!! I know you know why I’m celebrating that. And if you don’t know, keep it to yourself because I may begin to hate you.  While I sat in the car, waiting for my little shoppers to finish chowing down on their pretzels and whales (imitation Goldfish) so we could shop without crumbs, I dutifully checked in on my 4 Square app. 

SURPRISE!!!!! “You just ousted Melanie as the Mayor of Target!”

heh. heh. heh.

A sinister smile smeared across my face as I headed in for my necessities. 

Later, as I unloaded in my driveway, The Pink Lady chirped. 

“Mayor Nash…are you still here?”

Melanie was pulling into Target and must have just received the news of her displacement.  We had a good laugh, and moved on with our day.

A short while later, I saw that she had ousted some Random Dude as the Mayor of Chick-Fil-A.  This was even better….

Me: …and how do you think Random Dude feels about this?

Her: Same way I felt when you ousted me!

Me: heh heh. :) don't you know it's probably worse when it's someone you don't know?  at least you can smile and laugh with me about it - he's probably all "that crazy Melanie, the bitch, I'll show her!!!! - I'll take a number one with a diet coke!" LOL

Yes, folks.  This is what life is all about:  ousting your friends for a good laugh, and ousting strangers for an even better one. 

We’re kicking ass and taking names.

Now, who’s  up for some 4 Square???  Anyone?

Things that make me happy

I started a Thanksgiving Day post yesterday. It was filled with sarcasm, but it made me laugh.

Today, I went around my house snapping photos of things that make me happy. My new decorating rule: Surround yourself with things that make you happy. Happiness is completely irrational sometimes. Often, I can’t explain why something makes me happy, but I also can’t deny it. Like this summer when I found a pair of hotpads I just couldn’t resist. They made me happy.


This handmade bundle of flowers makes me happy. It sits on my desk, always in my line of sight as I look towards my monitor. It’s actually a combination of two Mother’s Day projects from BigGirl’s preschool days…and it’s a little worse for the wear (to say the least). But, when I look at it, I remember the day she presented these little gifts and I smile. She was so little.


Diet Dr. Pepper makes me happy. It’s sweet, cool, refreshing. I love it. Drinking it in my favorite cup (not seen here) on ice is a special treat I enjoy on “stay at home days”. Yummy. I know this isn’t exactly decorating, but it often graces an end table, bedside table, or counter in my home.



I love these blue and white canisters and pots. I’ve collected a lot of blue and white over the years. Why? Because it makes me happy. The two larger ones shown here came from my grandmother’s house. I love the combination of the three together, even though they are not intended to be displayed this way.






I love this little ceramic dog. One of my students gave it to me a few years ago for Christmas. She gave it to me because she and I both had a dog by the same name…a detail I had forgotten. Apparently, that was pretty special to her. The dog makes me smile. I look at it and think of her smiling up at me. This little doggie lives on my breakfast bar where I can see it everyday.






I love this little corner of my dresser. The lamp is nothing special, just an old Target purchase. But, the flowers are cheery and were a gift from My Mama. The crystal figure belonged to My Daddy’s Mama. You can’t really tell what it is, other than a person. It is a flower frog, intended to be used in the center of a crystal platter. However, I like looking at it on my dresser each morning as I dig for that favorite pair of underwear or bra.





I love this man. He’s a Greek fisherman. A few summers ago, I rescued him from a broken frame, buried deep within a closet at my grandmother’s house. (She’s very generous.) When I look at him, I wonder about his story. I would love to sit with him and hear his tales of the ocean and how he met his wife. I’d love to visit his home and enjoy a meal of fresh seafood that was prepared in his kitchen. I would take lots of pictures and they would be lovely. Like something from a movie.





Books make me happy. As “tech savvy” as I’d like to think I am, I cannot get into the thought of a Kindle. I love books. I love pages. I love book covers. I love books in stacks, in baskets, on shelves, in corners, on tables, everywhere. I love books. They make me happy.






I love this birdie. Pier 1. Love it. Wish I had bought more.








I love handing things down to my girlies. This little music box used to be mine. It was a gift from FireDaddy. He gave it to me as part of a birthday present the first year we were dating. It’s sweet, but it’s sweeter knowing it’s theirs now.







I love making things for my girlies. This is a Kitty Bank I made for BabyGirl. She wanted a Bunny Bank like the one her uncle gifted to her big sister, but I had no plans to return to Boston anytime soon to hunt down that cutie-patootie little toy shop in Harvard Square. So, I improvised…and spent an afternoon with BigGirl at the paint your own pottery place. It turned out OK, and BabyGirl absolutely adores it. She’s just like Sissy.








I love walking into a quiet room of the house and finding this. Having girls who love reading – and writing - is like a dream come true.



These are the little things that slowly, with time and love, turn a house into a home.

What makes your house a place you love to be?


UPDATED 12/1/09: Woo-hoo! Barking Mad is giving away a $300 Target Gift Card! (You know I need it!) Go see for yourself and get your bloggy all linked up, too!

Monday Mentions 3

Welcome to this week's Monday Mentions: Quasi-Diet Edition.

• I just NOW (as in right before I started this post) discovered this site. The pictures are GORGEOUS and make me drool. One day, my home will be beautiful like these pictures.
• In keeping with my weight loss theme of late, this is a podcast series I discovered this summer. I (ahem) am a "little" behind in my listening, but I've really loved what I have heard so far. It's a very peaceful, relaxing podcast to enjoy and I suggest you keep a journal with you while you listen.
• I also stumbled upon this site (thanks to the Over the Top Meme...link, to link, to another link, and LOVED these pictures). For those of you crafty ladies out there (I'm crafty in my mind...), you will love some of these projects. And, it appears for those of us NONcrafty folks, we can purchase some special items here, too.
• Also inspired by my current diet, I'm eating a lot of cottage cheese. Mmmmm...yummy. While, this week, I'm not enjoying this particular variety, one of my favorite cottage cheese products is Rachel's Cucumber Dill Cottage Cheese. It also comes in other flavors and, apparently, she makes yogurt, too. Try them!
• This morning, I really enjoyed this post by WeaselMomma. It's a little sad, a lot sweet, and is hanging out in my heart with me today.
• I cannot wait to make this recipe this week! And, I am still so proud of the great price I got on wild caught Alaskan salmon fillets this weekend at SuperTarget! Sometimes, it pays to shop around.
• Some of my readers have wondered where I find my photos to illustrate my posts. A while back, Melanie tweeted this site out. It is easily the easiest way to search for Creative Commons photos. I LOVE it and use it all the time now.

Psst! Remember - for more mentionable links, head over to the Daily Mish Mash for the motherload of links. :)

Getting Back Into the Swing

Unfortunately, that's not the swing to which I'm referring. This is more like the swing I'm climbing back into...

My glorious spring break has come to an end, as all good things must do. This week, I've had to get back into the swing of things - which, fortunately, includes this blog! (You know how it is, you are more willing to get started on the things you look forward to first.)

So, with that, there's a few things that have been burning on my mind that I feel the need to share with you.

Item: I have found a miracle pill - and it isn't Prozac. Recently, after hearing about the benefits of B vitamins, I strolled down the vitamin aisle in Target. I intended to casually read the labels and generally scope out the B Market, when a little bottle called my name.

Stress B-Complex? Um, Hello??? I GOT stress, baby!

Needless to say, it didn't take much thought before that bottle hopped into my red cart and I popped one before I even hit the sack that night.

Wow. I felt it immediately. I have been more energized and "peppy" everyday that I've taken them. They may possibly be my little miracle pill.

Side effect not noted on the bottle: neon yellow-green pee. But it's worth it! (And nobody has to know...except everyone who reads my blog.)

Item: I'm thirty-two (almost) and can still (more like finally) do a cartwheel. My darling eldest daughter has this problem with stress and being really hard on herself...I have no idea where she gets it from. She's currently struggling with learning to do a cartwheel in her jazz/acro class. So, being the loving, supportive mommy that I am, I realized the best thing I could do is "tutor" her in tumbling at home. She just needs a little more practice and confidence and I'm sure she'll get the hang of it.

We tried practicing indoors and giving verbal feedback. We tried using our hands to support and guide her legs and body so she could feel the right form. (A method which failed miserably, by the way. Apparently, at the mere touch of our hand, she expects to be carried through the motions and turns every muscle to mush.) So, to what did this crafty teacher resort? Well, every good teacher knows you need to model first. And away I went!

I discovered a number of things...

1. Cartwheels are 90% psychological. It's freaking scary when you've never done it before (or haven't in a really long time) to throw your hind end over your head, relying on the strength of two feeble girly (soft and squishy) arms to prevent you from crashing to the ground and breaking something important.

2. Landing gracefully is much harder than it looks.

3. I look really bad in yoga pants with a t-shirt tucked in. (I had to protect my modesty in front of my father and any of my parents' neighbors that may have glanced out their windows!)

Long story short, I wowed myself and my daughter improved slightly (after she beat herself up after watching video of her own cartwheels). We've got many more tutoring sessions ahead of us, but I'm sure she'll get it.

Item: I'm no good at waiting in lines. All it takes is a few lovely days at theme parks to discover this personal truth.

However, the icing on the cake came as I waited in line at the Kodak machine in Target to print 9 measly photos for Big Girl's school project behind two insanely rude and inconsiderate women for 40 minutes as they scanned and printed copies of an ENTIRE photo album! They kicked my personal torture into high gear with a particularly vicious below-the-belt assault to my afternoon schedule as they turned away from the machine and chatted with an old friend who was, apparently, so close and important to them that he was completely unaware that she had divorced her husband FIVE FREAKING YEARS AGO and is now dating a new guy who is "a big boy" whatever that was supposed to mean.

At this point, I refrained from my vain attempts to silence my tired daughter's whines. Let her whine. Go ahead, baby. Tell them how tired you are.

"What was that, Honey? This is taking FOREVER? You're hungry? I know, Sweetie. Let me see, I think I found a stale fruit loop in the bottom of my purse. Suck on this until we finally get a turn to use this machine. I just hope it is before the preschool closes. It would be awful if the school called the Department of Children and Families because I never made it to pick up your baby sister. Poor baby girl, she's probably going to be the last one there tonight. I hope she knows that we'll come EVENTUALLY for her. Surely her teacher will take her home eventually, right? They won't call a foster home yet, will they?"

It took me a good...24 hours?...for my blood to stop boiling. Actually, I'm not sure it ever really stopped. I hate waiting in lines.

Love-Hate Relationships

I have learned that my life is filled with love-hate relationships. Dang it! There is nothing more frustrating!

For instance, I HATE to go to the gym. Yet, I love it. When I haven't been in a while, I dread it like a trip to the OB/GYN. However, when I'm in a groove, it can be invigorating and uplifting. WHY THE HEE-HAW CAN'T I GET THROUGH THESE SLUMPS, THEN??? Am I really that short-sighted? Do I have memory issues that prevent me from remembering the high of endorphins flooding my bloodstream?

Perhaps that memory condition is the same memory condition that makes me consider, one day, having a third child. As I watch friends and relatives blossom with child, planning for their own blessed events that will soon change their lives forever, I reflect on my own pregnancies and start to daydream about another baby. WHAT AM I THINKING??? I guess my memory must be failing me again. Don't I remember how my body felt as it buckled under the pressure of my little miracle? Have I forgotten my own post-partum insanity so quickly?

On that note, I recall my shopping trip to Target yesterday. OH. MY. GOD. Have you ever wanted to be Elizabeth Montgomery and wiggle your nose to make something, or someone (perhaps yourself) disappear? I love my children. They are, I promise, the light of my life...and all that stuff. Yesterday, though? I was ready to be rid of (at least) one of them!

I was in a completely LAZY mood. (I attribute this to my recent avoidance of exercise. Currently, I'm completely submerged in "fat and lazy" mode.) I didn't even want to get dressed. However, my darling Baby had run out of diapers. Poop! (Pun intended.)

After approximately 30 minutes of necessary preparations required for any dash away from home on a cold day (sweaters, jackets, sippy cups, emergency snacks, blankies, pacie and books), we were finally off. We made it to Target and the trip went downhill from the moment we were in the door.

Any normal folk can just saunter into a store, grab a cart or basket and they're off. Not us. My girlies have to have a "train". (This is their pet name for the Big-Mama-Daddy-People-Pusher/shopping cart. You know, the one with the enormous red plastic two-seater platform attached behind the cart? The one that is next to impossible to push when its empty, much less loaded down with kids and goods?) Fine. We'll get a train, I reluctantly agreed, hoping this would buy me some peace and quiet.

Uh-oh. No trains on side number one. "No problem. Mommy has to return something, so we'll check at the other door." After making my returns, I was disappointed (yet, not surprised) to find that there were no "trains" at this entrance, either.

Fortunately, my eldest was perfectly content to ride in a regular cart. She's really getting too big for this, so she rides in the bottom of the basket. I am aware this is not the safest option, but, as the oldest, she is generally a very obedient child and not at risk of bailing out unexpectedly. My youngest, however, is a completely different story.

"No! I no want to ride! I want free ride!"

"Free ride" is an old family term for being carried by Mommy or Daddy. No slings or carriers will do, either. It is ONLY the real deal.

"Baby, you're too heavy! Mommy can't carry you! You can walk or ride." My attempts to persuade her to conform were in vain. She's freakin' stubborn. So, I tried to be sly. I carried her in front of me, resting her bottom on the top of the basket. This did not go unnoticed. She would scream, tightening her death grip around my neck and straightening her body so she slid off the cart.

I, calmly and lovingly, would explain to her (again) that this was not safe. She is too heavy to be carried throughout the store. I'd present the options over and over again, wasting my breath.

Now, fast forward to about...oh...6 minutes later. I'm breaking down and beginning to resort to threats. I've learned that time out may work at home, but in public it is nearly impossible to enforce. However, Daddy had some luck (relatively speaking) with spanking lately...dare I threaten this? What the heck! It can't get any worse, right?

So, I put it on the table and she -- why was I surprised? -- CHOSE THE SPANKING!!! She called my bluff!!! I quickly realize that there is NO WAY I am going to haul off and pop her a good one right in the middle of Target. Not wanting to back down (yet), I start to make my way to the family restroom. I could get her in there and issue the punishment.

I chickened out. I circled around and decided to go home. Through the checkout I would go and this nightmare would be over.

Enter Princess Number One. I had promised her a treat for being so good. (She really was being remarkably good. Not only was she minding me, but she was attempting to help persuade her sister to mind, too!) Crap. On to the cereal aisle for a little snack-sized bowl of Fruit Loops. On the way, I decided to crack open a can of teacher talk.

"Thank you SO MUCH for being such a good little girl today. Mommy is SO proud of you. I LOVE the way you're SITTING ON YOUR BOTTOM and riding so nicely! You deserve a special treat for your behavior!!! What would you like, honey? Some Fruit Loops?" Of course, IMMEDIATELY, Little Sister pipes up.

"Mommy? I want Fuit Woops. I want wide in de caht."

I felt low. I felt like a sucker and a doof...but I took what I could get. Into the cart she went and I zipped around the store, quickly gathering the items on my list.

Crisis averted, right? WRONG.

The tasty diversion worked for a while, until Baby decided she was finished. Fortunately, she remained content to ride...but she was now charged with sugar. Lord, have mercy. There were Fruit Loops flying all over that store! Squeals and screams, of joy, mind you, filled the store! I spent my shopping time scooping cereal from the floor each time she accidentally tipped the bowl. Sorry, Target, for the ones crushed under the wheels of the Cart O'Giggles. I left my broom and dustpan at home.

I love my daughters dearly, especially my Baby. But, I HATE shopping with them, especially my Baby.