Happy belated Mother's Day! I hope everyone now has the loveliest memories. I was extra blessed because I spent the entire weekend with My Sweet ELC. We were beyond productive. And she was incredibly generous for my first official Mommy's Day. I have a few new fabulous finds for my home and Little Leighton’s nursery that I can't wait to share. (Recap and finds to follow soon.)
Yesterday afternoon, after ELC headed south—back home to her country casa—I was thinking about my favourite “pregnancy products” I simply cannot currently live without. So please allow me to share them—via a list. (Y'all know how much I heart lists.)
In no particular order:
1. An occasional Skinny Vanilla Latte from Starbucks. To keep me sane. (I promise they’re well below the daily caffeine-intake restrictions. That’s my story. I’m stickin’ to it.)
2. Lemon wedges in my water. Because sometimes "plain water" doesn't cut it. I need variety. It's the spice of life.
3. Anthropologie Dish Towels, which I use to tie around my right foot. I know. This sounds weird. But said foot (and it is my right foot only) has taken to super swelling by the end of the week. The Anthro towels are "flappy" enough to secure the ice pack, thereby successfully combating said swelling, and yet they're still fancy and fashionable. All at the same time. Fabulous.
4. Gap maternity leggings. Nuff said.
5. Muu-muus. AKA: extra large nightgowns. At the encouragement of ELC, I purchased two muu-muus from Macy's three weeks ago. They’ve literally revolutionized my evening comfort. I’m more than willing, at thirty weeks, to sacrifice style for comfort. Even as my husband asks me:
“Do pregnant women YOUR AGE really wear muu-muus?”
I have no clue if anyone else MY AGE wears these. This Preggo Mama does. Period. End of Story. (Honestly? I wish I could wear them to work. And don’t think I haven’t legitimately considered it. I could add a belt. No one would know the difference, right?)
6. Mini Yellow Fan from Target. It's already HOT in Texas. The fan at my desk at work keeps the air circulating, and circulating air equals one happy Workin’ Mama.
7. Sperry's Leopard Print Flip Flops from Dillard's. My feet have gone up half of a size. Already. I'm worried that come July, flip flops won't even cut it. I'll be in house slippers before I know it. In the meantime, these floppers are cute, comfy and sassy.
Do y'all have any pregnancy must-haves you'd like to share? I love new ideas! PLEASE dish. (It is your duty—as a past—or currently—pregnant person.)
This is one of those cute little “Gift Books” you find at Hallmark stores. REALHallmark Stores. Or you can sometimes find these in the Hallmark/card aisles of Walmart, Walgreens or CVS. Those aisles are convenient, yes, but simply not the same. Seems like the stores are slowly becoming extinct, doesn’t it? Makes me tres sad. I’ve always known I could cheer myself up if I could find a Hallmark store and read their hysterically funny, touchingly sweet cards for about an hour. It’s great therapy for me.
TLC gave me this little book a few years back. (And, yes, I am one of the few people on Earth who actually reads every clever little book I receive.) My Sweet Hubby (MSH) and I tried to role model thoughtfulness while raising TLC. He made sure she remembered Mother’s Day and I, of course, always encouraged her to do something special for him for Father’s Day. As with most of you Moms and Dads, we’ve received the homemade gifts, the schoolmade gifts, the “Wonder-What-The-Heck-This-Is?” gifts. MSH and I have read some flowery, yet sometimes gut-wrenchingly tear-jerkin’, cards, notes and letters from TLC. We’ve saved them all. They’re treasures to us. (Especially the ones we got after she’d misbehaved—those are extra funny—I mean, darling.)
Growing up, as the oldest of four kids, I positively despised hearing the words: Because I Said So. Like all kids, of almost every age, I was determined I was never going to say them to “my kids.” Ever. I was ALWAYS going to make sure they understood why I was saying “NO!” They would get a real reason why they couldn’t do something/go somewhere/buy something/eat something/etc. Not that copout line.
I think TLC would admit MSH and I did our utmost, while raising her, from the time she was a toddler until she graduated from high school (oh, who I am kidding, I'm still tryin' to raise her), to explain our decisions to say “NO.” Still, despite my best and most patient efforts, this came out of my mouth several/too many times: “Because I said so. Period. Now stop asking me. If you ask me again, you’re grounded forever/in more trouble/never leaving this house for the rest of your life.” The truth? I still want to say it to her. For old times' sake.
This Mother’s Day is especially poignant for me and TLC. Here come the tears. Sheesh. In two months, Little Leighton will arrive and she’ll be as cherished and adored as TLC has always been. She’ll get mad at TLC. She may even get mad at Grammy. But I pray she never doubts how much we love her. We’ll teach her the meaning of Mother’s Day. That it’s not about gifts you buy. It’s about telling the women you love and admire they ROCK.
To end on a smiling/giggly/happy note, here are a few of the “funnies” disguised as advice in this charming little Hallmark book:
Everything’s better with a little dash of guilt.
If you think I dry DISHES fast, you should see the magic I can work with tears.
For the perfect getaway, pack plenty of snacks, some magazines and extra underwear. Husband and kids optional.
Moms. . .they always know more than you think they do.
If you have a problem meringue can’t solve, you’re not using enough of it.
Mom always cheers, even when she has no idea what’s going on.
The old-timey 50s and 60s pictures are perfectly precious. Hallmark writers? AMAZINGLY creative peeps.
Everyone/thing needs an update, right? Yes, yes we/it do/does. Homes. Wardrobes. Maybe even our lifestyles. {Please, however, don’t think ELC’s hairdo needs a change. Because, despite Kit’s (ELC's hairstylist for 26 years) extraordinary efforts, she can’t convince E to give up her hot rollers. Medium? Short? Longer-ish? E’s hair always looks the same. Blonde and Big.}
ELC had been bugging TLC to find a blog designer since our one year blogiversary on January 9, 2012. TLC, being preggers for the first time, basically ignored her mother. In a sweet, yet quite dismissive, way. Finally, E took matters into her own hands. She contacted someone both of the LCs adore: Ruthanne at Eclectic Whatnot. If you’ve never visited her blog, you simply must. Her humor and honesty will get right into your soul. Trust us.
Ruthanne, being the kind young woman she so genuinely is, got right back to ELC and gave her Danielle’s info.
After going to Danielle’s website, Take Heart, and sending her some preliminary questions, ELC ordered what Danielle suggested. In a matter of three days, VOILA! Our new design!
We are OVER THE MOON happy! It is everything we hoped for—and more. Much, much more. (We’ve been trying to cut down on our exclamation points lately—just overall—even in emails to each other—it’s kind of a bad habit we both have. When we talk about Danielle and our new design? IMPOSSIBLE!!!)
If you ever require (or just desire!) design work, please visit Danielle’s website. Look at her Portfolio. Some of her other services include: business cards, Twitter and Facebook cover photos (ELC has no clue what this means—however, she and CeeCee plan to have Twitter accounts—soon—therefore, she’s confident they’ll need whatever the heck this is), photocards and invitations. Read Danielle’s blog. It is charming, sweet, touching--exceptionally exquisite.
THANK YOU to Ruthanne for her fabulous recommendation. Merci and GRAZIE to Danielle—from the bottom of The Leightons’ hearts. Because of both of you, these Texas Gals are on Cloud 33 (ELC’s favourite number, you know) in Blogger’s Heaven. Yes, yes it is a real place. (Okay—perhaps only in our minds—but that should count, Sillies.)
Thanks to YOU—for stopping by. Please come back to see us soon…
I try to take Teddy Buddy Boo Bear on a walk, to our gate, every morning. A mile round-trip. Five days a week. If at all possible. My Sweet Hubby (MSH) usually takes him on Saturdays and Sundays. TBBB looks forward to these walks. I do, too. Coming back up the hill is still a challenge for me, though. I can’t even begin to guess how many trips I’ve made to the gate and back in the eleven years we’ve lived out here (heading into our 12th this month!). Our hill? Still gets me. I usually have to stop a couple of times and take six to eight deep breaths before I finally make it to the top.
At the first of last week, TBBB and I headed out one morning at . It was already a beautiful day. He got too far ahead of me (I like to be able to see him—at all times), so I ramped it up. As I rounded the first big curve, I saw him, thirty-ish yards away and stopped in the middle of the road. Completely and seriously focused on something that looked like it might be a turtle. When I got within approximately ten yards of him, I realized it was a coiled-up snake. Yep—I stopped dead in my tracks. Started yelling: “Come here, Teddy Bear! Now!” He glanced up at me once, as if to say: “Look! Look what I found!” As he looked back down, the snake made a strike at his sweet, precious face. Missed. Whew.
I’ll admit the snake was not big. In fact, it was probably a baby. Maybe 18 to 20 inches long. Hard to tell since it was coiled. It was dark in color, so I don’t think it was a copperhead. It wasn’t far from The Big Tank. Could have been a water moccasin. MSH has had to kill four rattlesnakes since we’ve lived out here. A friend of TLC’s killed a four-foot rattler eight years ago. It was at our gate early one summer evening. (That actually has a funny MSH “story” to it—will try to remember to share it another day.) We’ve found, while getting our Christmas tree out of the storage room in our garage three different years, rattlesnake “skins” that have been shed, probably in the Spring or early Summer. (Just shivered.)
I tried to stay calm with TBBB. But firm. He sincerely wants to be obedient, so he finally decided I was determined he was leaving that snake. I put him on the leash as soon as he got close enough for me to lunge at him. We scurried up the hill at a faster-than-usual pace. Surprisingly, I didn’t have to stop for any deep breaths. Not even once. I told Teddy MSH would walk him back down later that afternoon (assuming he wouldn’t be too scared—MSH, not TBBB). I was officially done.
Why didn’t I take a picture? It never occurred to me. That evening, MSH and I had a long discussion about my morning walks with TBBB. And snakes. I can’t agree to carry any kind of gun. I’ve only shot a rifle and shotgun once, each, in my life. A pistol one time—many, many years ago. At a target. I have no confidence about guns. Since I also wouldn’t agree to carry a knife (Lordy), Hubby suggested I take one of our big walking sticks. Because that would surely protect me. Right?
Last Friday, at lunch with two of my precious “young” friends (they are amazing women who I’m so proud to know) I work with (work being, perhaps, on my part, a loose term—I contract at an agency where they are part of the Staff—putting in three to seven-ish hours a week—me, not them), I was telling Marie and Ela about the snake incident. Marie went to her car and got some pictures she had just retrieved from Walgreen’s. Pictures of her Jack Russell named Pepper and a hognose snake Pepper went after in Marie’s yard (Marie, her husband and son also live out in the country). Hognose snakes have several nicknames, including spreading adders. That’s what Marie called this one. (I can’t tell you what TLC called it. It’s wrong. Funny. But very wrong.) According to Wikipedia, these snakes don’t want to hurt anyone. Awww—that’s tres sweet.
I am summarizing/paraphrasing Wiki:
When threatened, these snakes will flatten their necks and raise their heads like a cobra. And hiss. If this doesn’t work to deter what they perceive as a predator, they’ll roll onto their backs and play dead.
WWWHHHHAAAAATTTTTT? COBRAS?
Here is Pepper Fierce, doing her darnedest to let that sCaRy cobra understand who is BOSS:
Marie lives approximately ten miles from me—as the crow flies. This snake was in her YARD. At her house. I repeat: her yard. I am quite certain, if I see a snake like this in our yard and/or pasture, whether I’m walking with TBBB or outside watering my plants or just headed to my garage to get into my car for a trip to town, I’m going to need something bigger than this stick (what I currently walk with and taken in front of our wellhouse--not an outhouse!):
I’m going to need to borrow Pepper. And buy a portable heart defibrillator (because when I fall on my back, I won’t be playing). Do y’all think it would be too much to carry a defibrillator on my walks? Are they heavy? I’ve also got to carry TBBB’s leash and my iPhone.
Gotta scoot. Must go watch a Modern Family or read a Ballard’s Design catalogue. Drink a Diet Dew. (With perhaps a little Belvedeere in it. J/K--it's mid-afternoon--way too early.) Something—anything—to get my mind off that snake.
p.s.—I want to give a belated shout-out to Autumn for coming to meet TBBB last week! Did I get a picture of that? Nope. Not one. Sheesh. Because of the distance between our homes, a round trip is well over an hour. Add to that her efforts to pick up a delicious lunch for the two of us and she made an almost four-hour commitment to our visit. TBBB and I didn’t even want her to leave. It went by tooooooo fast. I’m hugely grateful for her friendship. Merci, Autumn Doll!!!
