Giving Up on a Perfect Halloween - GIVEAWAY

It's time to give up on a perfect Halloween. Come on . . . I'll even give you prizes!

I’ll randomly select winners from the comments. Don’t forget to include your e-mail address if you don't have a Blogger account. Comments will be closed at midnight on Halloween (insert scary music here).

One entry per person, but for additional entries, become a Facebook fan of Giving Up on Perfect (or tell me if you already are) or Tweet about this carnival and giveaway on Twitter. And then tell me about it in a separate comment!

Giveaway #1

This is your chance for a sneak peek at three books I'll be reviewing this fall!

• It’s a Wonderful (Imperfect) Life: Daily Encouragement for Women Who Strive Too Hard to Make It Just Right by Joan C. Webb
• Have a New Kid by Friday: How to Change Your Child's Attitude, Behavior & Character in 5 Days by Kevin Leman
• Slow Burn (Defiance Texas Trilogy, Book 2) by Mary E. DeMuth
• Yes, these are affiliate links.

Giveaway #2

This is the bundt pan. I'm going to assume you know what magazines look like.

• Longaberger Woven Traditions fluted bundt cake pan. Ivory pottery, safe for oven, freezer, microwave and dishwasher.
• Two-year subscription to Southern Living. (I’m pretty sure they’ve got a recipe or two for bundt cake!)
• Donated by my friends Angela and Kyla

Giveaway #3

These are just two examples. Check out the gallery for all your options!

• A 12x12 cafe art mount print by Red Letter Words
• You may have recently seen these great prints on Nesting Place. The Nester loves them, and so do I!

So what are you waiting for? Link up, enter and enjoy! And remember – give up on a perfect Halloween. The results might just be spooktacular. Or, ah, bootiful?

Darn it. I went nearly 800 words without a cheesy Halloween pun. Sorry, friends. I just couldn’t help it. Happy Halloween!

Embarrassing Stories, Funny Photos, a Carnival and Giveaways – now that’s a perfect Halloween!

Halloween 2007 came less than two weeks after we brought Annalyn home from the hospital. Those days are pretty blurry, but I’m pretty sure I spent that evening ignoring the knocks on the door (Hello, neighborhood kids. If the light’s off, keep on moving.) and checking on the teeny tiny baby sleeping in her crib.

Last year was much more exciting. My mom and I took Annalyn – in her ghetto kitty costume – to visit a couple people and then headed to their house for dinner and a movie (“It’s a Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown”).

This year, I’ve been so excited that Halloween falls on a Saturday. That means we can take Annalyn to more than two houses for trick or treating and, more importantly, Mark can come with us.

I’ve bought a ladybug costume, borrowed an antenna headband, found some black tights and mapped out all the stops we want to make before going to my parents’ house for chili and the annual Charlie Brown movie. It’s going to be great.

At least . . . it’s supposed to be great. Mark told me yesterday that he might have to work on Saturday. And so I got a lesson in my own philosophy – give up on a perfect Halloween, Mary!

Seriously, do the holidays ever turn out like we hope? Like we plan? Like we expect?

Not in my world.

Back in the day when I could show a little leg. (Also known as college.)

Ah, the memories of hand-me-down clown costumes and face paint made of Mom's makeup.

Carving a pumpkin with my dad. I think something went awry between picture #1 and picture #2!

Take the Halloween Slumber Party of 1990. From the black hair dye that started on my friend Elizabeth’s hair and ended up staining my mother’s sparkling clean bathtub to my insensitive friends who insisted on watching “Carrie,” even though some girls (read: me) were too scared to even look at the television, that night did not go as planned.

But nothing beats the Big Halloween Party of 8th Grade.

My friend Mindy and I got all dressed up, stopped by my Granny’s house to get some candy and snap a picture, and then headed out to the country for a good ol’ barn dance.

Okay, so it wasn’t so much a barn dance as a real, live boy and girl party in a . . . barn. But the boys and girls mostly stayed on opposite sides of that barn, honest. And as it turns out, Mindy was the only one who showed up wearing flannel and overalls.

She was dressed as a hobo. I was dressed as a gypsy. And everyone else was dressed as awkward adolescents who did not dress up for Halloween.

We were mortified. We ran into our friend’s house and called Mindy’s mom. We begged her to bring us clothes to change into, and she was more than willing. Unfortunately, Mindy lived on Trick or Treating Central, so there was no getting out of the driveway.

Eventually, one of her neighbors took pity on us and drove out with two normal outfits. Finally, we could head back to the barn and stand next to the rest of the girls who were staring at the boys.

Have you ever had a costume catastrophe? A holiday mishap? A less than perfect Halloween? Tell us all about it – link up in the MckLinky, and leave a comment!

Need more motivation to comment? How about a giveaway? What’s that? You want more than that? Okay, how about three giveaways?

Click over to my new review/giveaway page for the details!

Link up your posts, check out the giveaway and comment! And remember – give up on a perfect Halloween. The results might just be spooktacular. Or, ah, bootiful?

Darn it. I went nearly 800 words without a cheesy Halloween pun. Sorry, friends. I just couldn’t help it. Happy Halloween!

Marriage. Marriage is what brings us together today.

Thanks to the wonders of Facebook, I found out over the weekend that one of my dearest friends has left his wife of more than a dozen years.

As I learned about his affair and the battle that’s already begun over his two children, I sobbed. I didn’t know what to say, how to react, what to feel. I just knew that nothing about this situation is okay.

And I was reminded of a couple years ago when three of our couple friends (friend couples?) got divorced, all within a few months of each other. One couple went through a very public split that involved betrayal and infidelity; another couple lost a business, their house and eventually their love for each other. The third couple just stopped fighting and moved on.

I don’t say any of this lightly. Though I was close to each of the couples I’m describing, I’m well aware that I have no idea of the pain they’ve been through. All of my friends who have experienced divorce have hurt – they’ve hurt each other and they’ve been hurt themselves – and I know they still bear the scars of broken relationships, broken promises, broken hearts.

Thinking about this, facing this – it just makes me so sad. I don’t presume to know the details of anyone else’s relationship or what is right or wrong for anyone’s life. But I do know that each of my friends made promises to God and to each other, and those promises have been broken.

I’ve broken promises, too. Mark and I have been married for 10 years (woo-hoo!), but the majority of those years have been peppered with fights and frustrations and tears and tantrums and disappointments and – hmmm, I wish I could think of something else that started with a “d.” But you get the point.

We came into marriage with expectations and assumptions, and we each let the other down in every way possible. We’re going through a Bible study about marriage right now, and the chapter we just finished talks about focusing on the good things about your spouse and ignoring the bad things. Let’s just say we had that reversed for more than a few years.

Early in our marriage, we even considered whether or not we’d made a mistake by getting married in the first place. I said I didn’t know if it would work. I thought that maybe it wouldn’t.

I’m not sure how we made it through. Not without scars of our own, that’s for sure. But somehow, we kept putting one foot in front of the other. We kept coming home to each other. We kept trying to fight it out and figure it out. We talked, we cried (Okay, I cried. Mark handed me Kleenex.), we prayed, we screamed, we planned, we promised – and then we did it all over again.

Why did we stay together? Is it that we couldn’t stand breaking our promises for good? Were we afraid of disappointing our families? Were things really not that bad?

Well, no. They were bad. We’ve had, ahem, issues. But in the end, we still loved each other. (Even when we didn’t like each other at all.) And we realized that our problems didn’t make us want to escape the relationship. Instead, they just made us anxious – no, desperate – to fix what had gone wrong.

I am not judging my friends or anyone else who has ended a marriage. I know that it’s only by the grace of God that I have not been in their shoes. Those situations break my heart, but they also remind me of how blessed I am. I spent the afternoon after learning about my friend’s affair patting my husband on the arm, just making sure he knows that I’m still here, and that I’m glad he’s still here, too.

A few of my friends have written some beautiful posts recently about marriage, and I want to share them with you.

• Lisa-Jo wrote about expectations and the Prince Charming myth.
• Sarah wrote about her affair and how God redeemed her – and her marriage.
• And Alece shared the story of her husband’s betrayal and how she’s picking up the pieces.

I also want to hear from you, about your relationships, about your experience. How have you made it through tough times in your marriage?

My (new) morning routine

My disdain for housecleaning has been well-documented, so it's a little odd that my daughter loves to clean as much as she does. But give that girl a Clorox wipe, and she is one happy camper.

Given her gotta-get-it-clean-Mommy tendencies, I haven't been surprised to see how much she loves brushing her teeth. But what has surprised me a bit is her love of my entire morning routine.

From the minute I step out of the shower and crack the bathroom door, Annalyn is fascinated by every step I take to get ready for my day.

"Panties, Mommy?"
"Umm, yes, baby. Those are Mommy's panties."

Thankfully her interest doesn't stop at my underwear. Because that would be weird. After she "helps" me get dressed, then we move on to our teeth.

"Remember, Annalyn. When I'm finished brushing, you're finished brushing."
"Okay, Mommy. Pft!"
"No, you don't need to spit, baby."

And then it's time for makeup, although Annalyn's Daddy kindly says we're beautiful without it.

"Some. Some, Mommy."
"Okay, baby doll. Here's some chapstick for you. Go like this: MWAH!"
"Cheeks! Cheeks, Mommy!" "Lotion! Lotion!" "Eyes, Mommy! Eyes!"

My new morning routine takes a bit longer to get through, but it works for me. What does your morning routine look like?

Don't forget!

Remember - this Friday, October 30, is the Giving Up on a Perfect Halloween Carnival! I'll have a giveaway, a scary embarrassing story, pictures galore and a place to link up your own imperfect Halloween posts.

Need inspiration? Well . . .

• Have you ever turned off the porch light and eaten the rest of your Halloween candy by yourself?
• Have you ever had a great idea for a costume . . . that didn't quite work out?
• Do you think it's more fun to enjoy Halloween as a kid or as an adult?
• Do you like haunted houses and scary movies? Or do they make you pee your pants scream?
  

Or, what about . . .

• Your best homemade costume
• Your favorite Halloween candy
• The tastiest Halloween treats you've ever made
• Your family's fall traditions

Here's what it comes down to, friends: There's no perfect way to spend any holiday. So let's kick off the end-of-the-year holiday rush by not stressing out. And celebrating our funny, scary, sweet and memorable stories about Halloween.

And, oh yeah, by entering to win a big ol' prize. See you on Friday!

The Wow Factor

On an evening such as this, it's hard to tell if I exist.
If I pack the car and leave this town, who'll notice that I'm not around?
(Pinch Me, Barenaked Ladies)

One of my favorite songs has a vulnerable – and yet somehow catchy – line that seems to come out of nowhere, just moments after describing simple pleasures like running through the sprinkler and taking long naps.

But isn’t that how insecurity and fears are? Coming at us when we least expect it, slamming into our hearts and shadowing our minds before we even know what hit us?

Last week I auditioned for a solo at church. For nine months, I’ve known that I wanted to sing a certain song at the Christmas program, and Thursday was my day to make that happen.

Things did not go as planned.

To read the rest of this story, head over to (in)courage.

Shaky, shaky...

When I was a freshman in college, my roommate loved Elmo toys. She'd worked at Toys 'R Us, I think, and also had a young nephew to spoil - between the two, she'd really become fond of the annoying red muppet. And so she had a Tickle Me Elmo. And a Tickle Me Cookie Monster, or whatever he was called.

And she kept them in her bed. Where she occasionally would roll over on them in the middle of the night.

That's a weird thing to wake up to, let me just tell you.

I'm having flashbacks to those days, because Annalyn was given an Elmo & Cookie Monster Giggle Ball (yes, that's it in the picture), and when I accidentally sat on it, well, I'm sure you can guess what happened.

Yep. "Giggly, jiggly! Shaky, shaky! Ha, ha, ha!"

That link is not an affiliate link, by the way. Because I am not advocating anyone buy this thing.

And how was your weekend?

Saturday Review: Fame, Management & a Shopaholic

Two out of three of us are still sick in my house, so this will be short and sweet. Or, at least, short. (And you know that my version of short is less than 600 words, right?)

Smitty and I went to see Fame after Annalyn’s birthday party. We had pretty high expectations, as lovers of the teen dance genre, and that may have been the problem.

Here’s what I’ll say: If the goal of this movie was to illustrate the difficulties of a young artist’s life that we might not know about or think of, then they succeeded. It was filmed in a gritty way, so it seemed pretty obvious that viewers are supposed to feel like we’re getting a real look at the lives of these students.

But here’s the problem: The movie follows several characters over four years. In less than two hours. It was almost more of a montage than a movie – short clips of characters with no real development. I could hardly remember all the main characters’ names, much less care about what happened to them.

On the other hand, I’m a sap for teen dance movies. So the music, the dancing, the teeny-bopper romance? Totally made me grin (a little bit) and maybe even cry (a teeny tiny bit).

Also, Megan Mullally is awesome in everything she does. And now I’ve added another movie to my need-to-see list: the original.

Mark and I rented Management a couple weeks ago. Redbox didn’t have any new movies out that we wanted to see, and Mark assumed that anything with Jennifer Aniston would be the kind of romantic comedy I like.

(Awwww, so sweet.)

It wasn’t exactly the kind of romantic comedy I normally watch, though. It was about a romance of sorts, and it had funny parts. But it was very dry and not fast-paced.

The gist is this: Jennifer Aniston is a businesswoman who meets Steve Zahn on a business trip at the motel his parents own. He’s kind of nerdy and immature; she’s kind of overworked and lonely. He takes a fancy to Miss Aniston and ends up following her around the country, wearing her down until she . . . well, you don’t want to know the ending, do you?

Somehow it manages to be not really as stalker-ish as it sounds. Really, it’s pretty good. Quiet, but good. Oh, and it also has Woody Harrelson, so if that’s a draw, it has that going for it.


When Chelley visited several weeks ago, we rented Confessions of a Shopaholic. Chelley had already seen it and liked it, although she said the book's different and better. I feel a little bad, because I didn’t really like it.

I think Isla Fisher is adorable, and there’s nothing better than a floppy-haired British romantic lead. (It turns out Hugh Grant was busy – or old – so they went with another Hugh, Hugh Dancy.) But the main character was real annoying to me. I’d like to think that people aren’t really that dumb, but maybe they are. So all I’ll say is that she isn’t the type of person I want to spend 104 minutes with.

Well, to be honest, it would probably be fun to go shopping with her. But to watch her try to dig herself out of the holes she’s dug herself? Not so much.

So – seen any good movies lately?

On the up side, it's Friday.

The good news: I don't have the flu.

The bad news: That's the only thing my neighborhood drugstore clinic is treating for.

More bad news: I waited an hour and a half to find that out.

The good news: It's Friday.

Last night, my choir director mentioned an incident that occurred when he was a waiter at Chili's. It involved veggies, a lap and a very angry lady.

That reminded me of my time as a waitress - three of the longest months of my life! I was not a good waitress, and I didn't enjoy it one bit. Honestly, I don't remember a whole lot about that job, but I do remember one night in particular.

The night I dumped a whole tray of drinks, splashing a huge (HUGE!) glass of tea onto a man's lap. He was kind and gracious and forgiving, but still. Embarrassing!!!

Cheer me up today. Tell me a horror story from one of your early jobs. (Or recent jobs, if that provides better material!)

Heading for the highway...looking for my gas tank?

We bought my car, an Oldsmobile Alero, six years ago. It has been clear to us that it's not the best car ever made in these 50 states for about five years. Mark has hated it for approximately five years. We paid it off just over one year ago.

Despite the rattling and whirring that occasionally popped up and the windshield wipers that only worked when they felt like it and the signal indicator that made its ticking noise even when the blasted blinker wasn't on, it was a decent car.

And by "decent," I mean that it got me from Point A to Point B. Every single time.

Until Saturday, that is. When a piece of metal lay (lie? laid? I don't know.) in wait on the highway, jumping up to attack our gas tank at the most inopportune time.

Or opportune, depending on how you look at it. Because, after what seems like weeks but has only been a few days of dealing with insurance agents, rental car guys, insurance adjusters, used car salesmen and - worst of all - cranky spouses, Mark and I are now the proud owners of a new car.

The very car that we had looked at a month ago but decided we couldn't afford. That's our new car. Well, a new used car. A new-to-us car. A crossover, or as others might call it, an SUV-wannabe. Or, as my dad called it, a station wagon. No matter. It's shiny and it's big and it's ours.

And I think it's going to get better gas mileage than my sad, old Olds.

Here it is. Except, not. Because this isn't the exact car we bought. I mean, it is. But ours doesn't live in the mountains. It lives in the middle of the country. In a suburb. With all the other SUVs and crossovers.

I'm just getting to know it, but so far, I love my new (used) car. I'm thankful that, despite my hopes and dreams for my old car lasting just one more year, God provided for us and moved up our car-buying schedule.

I will try to be just as thankful when the first payment is due in December.

What are you loving today? For more things to love, visit The Diaper Diaries.

Half full or half empty

Photo by Jenny Downing

When I was in high school, I sang a duet at our spring concert. The song was called "Heart Half Empty," and it has been stuck in my head since I started writing this post.

Anyway.

Sometimes I hear people say things that are just annoying. Things like, “I don’t have time to watch TV.” Or, “Oh, I can’t eat fast food anymore. It upsets my stomach.” Or perhaps, “I just can’t go a day without exercising. I get cranky!”

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that these things are bad or even untrue. No, they’re annoying statements because, sure, I’d love develop an aversion to fast food and television and spend more time working out. But that’s just not real life. At least, it’s not my real life.

And so I get annoyed.

But you know what I found myself thinking the other day when a co-worker mentioned that she doesn’t like water? “Really? Wow. Sometimes I crave water. I can’t get enough. I like water.”

I almost became one of those people with my annoying, self-righteous, good-habited statements.

But, just like those folks who hate fast food and love to exercise (and somehow don’t make TV watching a priority), I meant it. It’s the truth. I drink a lot of water. And I like it.

Does that make me weird? Maybe. But it's my one good habit, and besides, we all know the benefits of drinking more water: weight loss, better skin, live to 100. (Just kidding on that last one.) So perhaps I can offer some helpful hints on getting more water in your day. (More, as in six to eight cups, of course!)

• If you’re a fan of bottled water (because, yes, I realize some of you probably are not in favor of disposable plastic bottles), buy a 24-pack and keep it in your car. Then you can drink a bottle on your way to work, while running errands or on the way to drop off the kids at school.
• If you are opposed to those landfill-filling bottles, then get a good thermos. That way, you can keep your “car water” cold. And save the earth. (Serious side note: I’m all for non-disposable things. But in the interests of full disclosure, I often drink water from plastic bottles.)
• If you work at a desk – or in the kitchen or in a classroom or, you get the point – keep a cup for water there. That’s what I do – I keep a giant plastic cup at my desk at all times, refilling it a few times a day.
• If you can’t stand the flavor of water (really?), use the sugar-free mix-ins. I know Crystal Light makes lots of flavors; so does Great Value at Walmart.
• Drink with a straw. If you need to, a colorful, twisty one. I can’t promise this will make your water taste like Diet Coke, but it might making drinking it a little more fun.
• Add ice. Personally, I like cold water with no ice. But my co-worker swears that drinking water with ice speeds up your metabolism. Or at least makes the water colder.

Okay, how about you? Do you drink water? I know I have more trouble getting my water in over the weekend, when I’m on the go – or at least not at a desk all day. When do you find it harder to drink your six to eight?

Drinking water works for me. For more tips, visit We Are THAT Family.

New tunes on a Tuesday

WINNER ANNOUNCEMENT! Random.org picked Jessie from Vanderbilt Wife to win this CD! Congratulations, Jessie!!

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I have a confession. Even though I consider myself a music person, I’m not one of those cool music people. I don’t wear black, I can’t improvise and - here's the real kicker - I listen to the radio.

Given that my music-listening hours are occupied by the same 10 songs my favorite stations play, I don’t often stumble onto songs and musicians outside the mainstream. Or, even just new ones.

(Unless you count the new music battles that some stations play, where they pit the latest songs by two already-popular artists against each other. And I’m guessing that does not count.)

So when One2One Network gave me the opportunity to review and give away Brandi Carlile’s new album, Give Up the Ghost, I didn’t hesitate. Of course I signed up!

As I mentioned in my official disclosure last week, I will never tell you I like something if I don’t. That means you can take this at face value: I love this CD!

After I listened to it a few times, I started doing a little research. You can learn about Carlile on her web site, but you may already be familiar from her if you’re a Grey’s fan. The show has apparently featured several of her songs, which explains why her sound was somewhat familiar to me.

Carlile reminds me of K.T. Tunstall, and my new Brandi Carlile station on Pandora also plays Norah Jones, Adele and someone named Missy Higgins. Then again, it also played Coldplay, so this is only so helpful.

I really enjoy acoustic music, and Carlile’s real, sometimes raw voice is complemented beautifully by her guitar. My favorite songs on Give Up on Ghost are Dreams and That Year, but honestly, I love the whole CD.

And now it’s your turn to listen to some new tunes. Win a copy of Brandi Carlile’s Give Up on Ghost by leaving a comment. Tell me your latest music find or current favorite song. I’ll randomly draw a winner after midnight on Wednesday, October 21.

I guess the time was right for us to say…

Extra credit to anyone who can name that song (in the title).

Do you make plans? I do. I’m a big planner. I like making plans. But sometimes – as in, right now in this very moment – I’m really not sure why I bother.

Let me start with the good parts of my weekend. Because despite that Debbie Downer statement, there were some.

Annalyn spent Friday night with my parents, because I had an awards dinner to go to for my job. On my way home from work, I found my car driving itself to the mall and parking in front of Macy’s. An interesting choice on the car’s part, really, because I didn’t have time to shop.

I also didn’t have anything to wear, really. I mean, what is cocktail attire, anyway? No, that’s not a good question. I know what cocktail attire is, and it’s lovely. I just don’t really have anything that fits the criteria. Anything that fits, at least. (Boo.)

So, my car took me to Macy’s, and I decided that I could just run in for a minute. Twenty minutes, to be exact. That’s how much time I gave myself to make a quick pass through the dress department.

First I had to find it. Why do all the dresses – regardless of size – need to be grouped together? In the opposite end of the mall than the rest of the clothes in my size? I don’t understand.

I mean, I get it when Target puts the diapers in the back of the store, with hopes that I’ll be tempted by 90s love song CDs, Halloween candy and drugstore makeup. But Macy’s? What am I going to be tempted by? Teeny bopper clothes in the juniors section that wouldn’t have even fit me when I was a junior?

Uh, no.

Well, despite this irritation and the ticking clock, I actually found a dress. It was beautiful, it fit well enough, and it was on clearance. The magic word! I’m happy to tell you that my lovely $110 dress cost me less than $30.

So, that was good. And the event was fun. My company went home with four awards from our local public relations organization, and I got a free dinner. The kind with the fancy green beans – you know, the ones Mark won’t touch. Mmmmm.

And, most importantly to me, I got to hang out with friends from my agency days afterwards. That was fun. I miss those guys!

On Saturday morning, my alarm failed me. And so I failed my friend and college roommate, Lisa, who was in town. We’d tentatively planned on meeting for breakfast that morning – after she ran a marathon and I got out of bed. Unfortunately, though she did, in fact, run a marathon, I did not get out of bed. In time, that is.

Sleeping in was nice, though. When Annalyn normally wakes me up at 7 a.m. or earlier on the weekends, opening my eyes to read 10:03 felt like a miracle.

Running over a piece of metal on the highway, which punctured our gas tank, did not feel like a miracle, however.

Yep, that’s right. On our way to pick Annalyn up from my parents’ house, we went and broke our car. Our paid off car. Our not-great-but-gets-me-to-work-and-back car. Our car that we can’t afford to replace for another year car. That one.

Needless to say (although I’m saying it anyway), our Saturday plans of getting Annalyn’s pictures taken and cleaning out the garage went by the wayside.

We’re still in the process of figuring out what we can do – and what we should do. If our insurance covers the problem, then everything will be fine. If it doesn’t, though, we’ll have to trade our broken, leaking car for a new one.

That was not in the budget.

The good news is we think we’ve figured out how to avoid renting a car for at least a couple days. We can definitely make do – even with our crazy schedules – with one vehicle. And based on what I’ve read about comprehensive insurance, I think (?) it will cover the damage. We’ll see.

Sunday was better than Saturday in so many ways. Our church is holding our annual missions conference this week, so choir sang a fun song about hearing the call of the kingdom. And then Annalyn attended her first birthday party that wasn’t for a relative. It was fun – although Evel Knievel was determined to join the big kids on the giant bounce house instead of staying in the toddler area.

And now I’m getting ready to watch this season’s episodes of NCIS with Mark. And eat some chicken. And mashed potatoes. Because I love them. (potatoes and NCIS and Mark)

Oh, and the title? The first line of “Love of a Lifetime” by Firehouse. Cheering me up immensely this weekend, despite the pesky car troubles, was the fact that I heard not one, but two, songs by Firehouse on the radio. (You are quite welcome for that link. How about that hair, huh?)

Because, we know our dreams can all come true with love that we can share. Yep.

First comes Homecoming, then comes marriage...

Fifteen years ago today (or yesterday by the time most of you read this), I went on my first date. And it just happened to be with my husband.

Thankfully, my mother was handy with the camera that night. For posterity. And the torture of teenage girls.

Despite the look of great annoyance on my face, I had a good time on that first date. Mark took me to dinner and our school's Homecoming dance. He talked constantly and then later told me that he was afraid I was too quiet. (If only he'd known...!) We danced together twice - to Seal's Kissed by a Rose and an embarrassing Boyz II Men song that was popular at the time.

After the dance, we went to my friend Jammie's house to hang out with several of my friends. If I remember correctly, we were the only ones who had actually gone to the dance, so I stood out in my skirt and - I know - pantyhose. (It didn't help that Mark's version of dance-appropriate attire was jeans and a button-up. Don't even get my mom started on how annoyed she was that we spent hours - HOURS! - shopping for a perfect outfit, and he showed up in jeans.) Luckily my friend had some sweats and a t-shirt I could change into. So fashionable, I was.

We played pool and ate junk food and hung out. I'm not sure what "hanging out" really entailed. Mostly just feeling awkward having my first date guy there with all my friends, including one guy who insisted on making fun of me the entire night. (Thank you, high school guy friend who surely doesn't remember this night like I do. You made an awkward evening even more awkward.)

After the dinner, the dance and the party, Mark drove me home. After all, my 6-foot-tall mother had made sure to intimidate him into a concrete commitment to my midnight curfew.

He pulled into my driveway. I think I said something about having a nice time or thank you for dinner or something. I distinctly remember gripping the door handle. And then, woof!

All of a sudden, his face was in my face. Yes, he kissed me. On the first date. Apparently, I'm that kind of girl. (But only with Mark!)

So, there it is. My first date story. Nothing terribly exciting, but it's mine. Now I want to hear yours. Tell us about your first date in the comments - or link up a post on your blog below!

You should cut me.

I was real ambitious with my TV-watching schedule. But in reality, life often gets in the way of the best couch potato intentions.

Which is why a small part of me is happy when a show doesn't live up to my expectations and can move from the must-see column to the watch-it-online-when-I-get-around-to-it column.

NCIS: Los Angeles is definitely on its way to that column. And much as I am loving Community and Modern Family, I can watch their 22 minutes anytime. No need to stick to a spreadsheet or schedule.

I thought I was going to add Grey's Anatomy to this list. I really thought I could quit Grey's this time. I watched half of the deliciously ridiculously emotional season premier and then skipped the next week's ep. But I found myself home during the show last week, and I got sucked back in.

I blame Cristina Yang.

Callie's speech to the Chief in the season opener was a little over the top, but enjoyable. "When people want the best, they page me. I've basically been running Dr. Chang's department all year. This is cr--. You're gonna regret this. No! I am excellent. And any other hospital would be thrilled to have me. I'm a superstar!"

I liked that. Yes, the superstar may have been a little bit much. But still - haven't you wanted to make that speech to someone, sometime?

Still. I could have resisted even after that scene. But then I went and watched episode four. You might think that the touching scenes between Meredith and Lexie/Lexie and Thatcher/Thatcher and Meredith are what drew me in.

But, no. It was Cristina's speech to the Chief. (The Chief's having a rough fall, huh?) After being shoved aside, ignored and assigned to grunt work all day (week? month? episode?), she'd had enough. And she let the Chief know.

I have good hands. They're fast, they're dexterous, they were made to throw ties and do complex procedures. These hands were made for surgery. Today they should've been deep inside a heart saving a life. Instead they removed a tick and pumped a p*n*s.

My point? You know what? You should cut me. From the program. You have to make more cuts, and I should go. 'Cause if you can't give me a brilliant cardiothoracic attending who's willing to teach me, then I can't get what I need from this hospital.

Everyone is scared of losing their job, and so am I. But if I can't learn, if I can't use my gift, then I guess that scares me more.

That's my point, sir.

I'm no surgeon. Actually, I have to watch Grey's (and Bones and NCIS and the spy movies I love so much) through my hands, covering up the icky parts of the screen. But I can certainly identify with Cristina. If I can't learn, if I can't use my gift, then I guess that scares me more. Yes, ma'am.

And that is why I can't quit Grey's Anatomy.

Have you been disappointed or pleasantly surprised by any TV shows this fall?

This post will be linked to Things I Love Thursday. Sadly, this isn't even the first time I've linked a TV post to that carnival. *sigh*

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WHAT did you just say?

I'm sure you'd never guess that this innocent little girl could make a sailor blush. If you guessed that she doesn't do it on purpose, you'd be right. But the words that accidentally pop out of her toddler mouth? Well, they definitely make her mama blush!

What kind of crazy things does Annalyn say? Oh, let me tell you.

• Remember britches - said without an "r"?
• And then there's truck and frog - which both somehow end up starting with "f" and rhyming with duck.
• Oh yes, don't forget purse, which is a bag carried over the shoulder, not a bodily function like it sounds.
• The first naughty-but-not word she said was fridge. And so adamantly, shoving her sippy cup of milk toward me, strongly suggesting I put it in the refrigerator. Which would be fine (minus the requisite "please"), except that somehow fridge sounded very similar to britches without an "r."
• And last but most certainly not least is Annalyn's latest word: chilly. And in case you're not fluent in toddler distortion of clean language, imagine Annalyn saying it over and over at the grocery store, making the innocent word rhyme with itty bitty.

Yep. My sweet little girl has quite a mouth. Crazy, right?

My friend Hillary is having a parade of crazy over at her blog, The Other Mama, today. If you'd like to share something crazy - old outfits, things that you found in your car, advice you've tried or meals you've cooked with strange ingredients found in the back of your pantry - link on up! Or, just head over there to read a little bit of crazy. Who doesn't need some of that on a Wednesday?

That's what I call a pizza craving!

I don't like watching the news. I do realize that, as a public relations professional, I should be interested in the news. And I am. When it involves my company or our industry.

But the local news? Not my favorite.

However, I didn't turn the TV off fast enough when Castle was over, and I caught the first story on the nightly news.

Apparently, a Pizza Hut delivery man was carjacked and kidnapped Monday night.

What? Have you ever wanted pizza that bad? I mean, wow. I love pizza. And I'm sure I've craved it at times. But those are some pretty extreme measures. (Yes, I realize it's possible that there's more to this story than the delivery of a large one-topping. But just go with it, will you?)

Thanks to this brave delivery man and the fact that his story was the most newsworthy thing going on tonight, I now have a blog topic. That's right. Here are my top ten favorite pizzas.

• Pizza Hut pepperoni stuffed crust (I know. Okay? I know.)
  
• Pizza Hut hamburger hand-tossed crust (Boring? Maybe. Or delicious? Oh, yeahhhh.)
  
• Papa John's supreme when eaten with our friends, Zac and Mandy
• Totino's Combination Party Pizza (This one's a throwback to college...when have I even eaten one of these? I mean, half of one. Nope. One.)
  
• Jack's frozen pepperoni pizza (with extra mozzarella, just to up the health factor)
• Homemade pizza, with hamburger, onion and green pepper
• Minsky's combo pizza without sausage
• Godfather's humble pie, substitute beef for sausage (What can I say, we don't do sausage!)
• Shakespeare's pizza with beef, pepperoni, onion, green pepper and mushroom
• Waldo Pizza - everything I've ever eaten there.

N0w I'd like to know: What's your favorite pizza?

For more Top 10 lists, visit Oh Amanda's Top Ten Tuesday.

Beans, beans, the magical . . .

Mark is an expert at making baked beans. I can't say I'm always thrilled about this - or about, you know, the effects of said beans - but I can't deny that the man has a way with beans.

And since I didn't cook a thing this weekend despite my plans to share a recipe with you (unless you count a can of reduced fat cinnamon rolls that I absolutely did not eat all by myself even though I totally wanted to), I thought I'd give props to my husband today.

Mark's Baked Beans
4 cans pork & beans, drained
4 slices of bacon, cooked
1/2 cup chopped onion
1 1/2 cup brown sugar
ketchup
mustard

Mix it all together and bake for two hours at 350 degrees. Stir every half hour. Enjoy - but by the spoonful, not the bowlful. Not that we speak from experience in our house. Ahem.

(How impressed are you by this slightly blurry, using natural light Pioneer Woman-esque ingredient shot?)

This is a before baking shot, and so is the top photo. Just so you know.

Mmmm...tasty. In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that this photo was taken in May. But those beans were just as tasty as the beans made this weekend and featured in the other photos.

Now, I should tell you that Mark claims he puts a secret ingredient in his baked beans. I'm pretty sure it's bacon grease, but honestly, I just try not to think about that. He says there's another, separate super-duper secret ingredient.

But he's also pouting because I'm giving away his special recipe for his signature dish. So, please, if you follow this recipe and come up with the best baked beans you've ever tasted and then you happen to attend a potluck or BBQ with us, bring potato salad.

Do you have any secret recipes??

This post will be linked to Mouthwatering Monday, Tasty Tuesday, Tuesdays at the Table, Tempt My Tummy Tuesday, and Family Recipe Fridays.

Saturday Review: Snow White & the Seven Dwarfs

I owe Snow White an apology.

See, the last time I watched this movie, all I could think about was how annoying I found that cartoon girl’s high-pitched, mousy voice. So when One2One Network offered me the chance to review the Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs Diamond Edition (yes, for free), I’m not sure why I signed up.

No, that’s not true. I signed up because I thought, “This sure isn’t my favorite Disney movie, but maybe Annalyn will like it.”

And I’m happy to tell you that she did. After watching the Elmo video we checked out of the library about 10 times in four days, I couldn’t take it anymore. And since we were stuck at home with the croup, both of us feeling a little bit miserable, I had to do something.

So Snow White it was. And while Annalyn didn’t sit and stare at the television for an hour and a half, she did like the movie. Or, in her words (when I paused it), “Movie! Watch it! Movie! Watch it!”

And, okay, I enjoyed it, too. Those dwarfs (dwarves? I’m not sure…) are actually funny, and it’s interesting to look at the 1937 animation, compared to what we see today. And while I hadn’t forgotten “Heigh Ho, Heigh Ho, It’s Off to Work We Go,” I had forgotten about “Someday My Prince Will Come” and “Whistle While You Work.”

Don’t think I changed my mind about Snow White’s puny voice. But the songs themselves? Well, just maybe I liked them after all.

But my favorite part by far was hearing Annalyn say (without her “r” as usual), “Pincess sad. Sad pincess.” Awww! So cute! (And yes, I do realize I will be sick and tired of pincesses before long. But for now – super cute.)

Now here’s where my review gets tricky. I’m supposed to tell you how awesome the Blu-ray disc is . . . but as you know . . . I’m a little behind in the entertainment technology department. So just in case you, too, are unaware of the benefits of Blu-ray, here they are:

• Blu-ray provides up to six times better quality than DVD (imagine how much better it is than my ol’ VCR!), as well as surround sound.
• Blu-ray discs include games, activities and tons of special features.
• The disc itself is more scratch resistant (read: kid proof!).
• The Blu-ray player plays both Blu-ray and DVD discs.
• Blu-ray discs also play on Sony Playstation 3 players.

In sum, I believe the Blu-ray is better than my 20-year-old VCR.

Seriously, it turns out I was wrong about Snow White. Sorry, Snow. I guess the American Film Institute wasn’t so crazy when they put you on their list of the 100 greatest American films of all time.

Just don’t tell Belle I said so.

If you’d like more information about the Snow White Diamond Edition, visit the official website. You can also watch a special Blu-ray trailer here.

What’s your favorite Disney movie?

Apologies. Or not.

When I was in high school, my mom read an article. It was about women and communication and I don’t know what else. What I know is that she was compelled to share something from that article with Smitty and me.

Or maybe it was just me, and then I told Smitty. I’m not sure. It’s been a while, so I don’t really remember. I just know that Smitty and I have never forgotten this little lesson.

The article – and my mom – said that when expressing sympathy, we should not say, “I’m sorry,” because that implies that we are somehow at fault. And when you’re talking to someone whose grandma died or who lost her job or who just had a bad day, do you really want to take responsibility for that situation?

No, of course not. So the article – and my mom – encourages women (who are the worst offenders of over-using the sorry phrase) to say instead: “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Warning: You must practice this before using it in real life. Because if you just say it offhand, you’re going to sound rude. Uncaring. Flippant. It takes work to use that statement and actually sound sincere.

On the other hand, sometimes apologizing is the right thing to do.

Last week, Annalyn was whining on our ride home from the babysitter. I’m pretty sure nothing was actually wrong. And I say that because I had offered everything from toys to music to silence to kisses to cheerful voices to a threat to pull the car over Right. Now.

Surprisingly, that last one was not what she was looking for.

No matter what was wrong, I couldn’t handle the whining. Not again. Not that night. And so I snapped. I hollered at my baby girl, “Stop! Whining! Now!”

Well, it worked. She did quiet down. And for a split second, I was satisfied, thinking I’d done the right thing by being consistent and all discipline-y. But in the very next second, I felt terrible. I had completely overreacted, and a few moments of silence isn’t worth treating my little girl poorly.

And so I apologized. I said, “Annalyn, I’m sorry. Mommy is sorry for yelling at you. I love you.”

Sometimes apologizing is the right thing to do.

The time I learned, five years later, that I had inadvertently hurt a dear friend? I apologized.

The time I misspelled the name of a prestigious award my company won – in dozens of news releases? I apologized.

Every time I realize that I was impatient with Mark or steered him wrong with (probably unsolicited) advice? I apologize.

Despite the reminder to not apologize for things that are not my fault, I’m not one of those people who refuses to apologize for anything. No. If When I hurt you, when I let you down, when I accidentally hit your car door with mine in the parking lot – I will say that I’m sorry. And I will mean it.

But some things I will not apologize for. I will take responsibility for them, but I will not apologize for them and therefore imply that they are wrong.

Values. Morals. Beliefs. Dreams.

Hmmm . . . one of these things is not like the other, right?

I think most of us have some values, morals and beliefs strong enough that we would not apologize for them, would not back down when challenged. Faith. Patriotism. Work hard. Tell the truth at all cost. Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. They might take different shapes and colors, but we all have something.

For me, though, having a dream, a desire for more, a drive to be better, do more, get there faster is one of those things. I will not apologize for dreaming.

What are you talking about, Mary?

Well, thanks for asking. Now I don’t feel quite so bad unleashing a little rant on you. (Why did it take me so long to get here? I don’t know. That may be a deeper question. Or not. Maybe I just like to talk a lot.)

I have had seven jobs since I graduated from college. Eight years ago. Yeah, I can do the math, and yeah, that sure is a lot of jobs.

Has my career path been frustrating? Absolutely. Have I cried gallons of tears over my desperation to leave a certain job, to get a certain job, to just learn to love a job, any job? Oh yeah. Do I have to fight a tendency toward bitterness and despair (and possibly a little bit of melodrama) when I look at my resume or consider my uncertain future? Yep.

But you know what? I won’t let it win. I won’t give up. I won’t stop trying. I won’t stop looking for the right fit, the right job, the place for me, the thing I’m called to do. I won’t stop dreaming.

So if you are feeling the urge to tell me, “Just be happy you have a job,” or “There are a lot worse companies out there,” or my personal favorite, “You don’t like this job either? Have you ever thought that maybe the problem is you?” – don’t bother.

I won’t listen anyway.

What do you dream about?

It's like a walk-in closet, but different.

We don't have a lot of storage space in our house. On the other hand, I have a lot of clothes. Mainly I have clothes that don't fit, but getting rid of clothes that don't fit is not the issue at hand.

No. Organizing my closet is.

How do you do it? Do you put away your off-season clothes? Under your bed in boxes? In those vacuumed bags that I see on TV? Or is your closet big enough for all your clothes at once?

Just kidding. Don't tell me if that's the case.

Seriously, what's your seasonal wardrobe strategy?

A great value?

Do you shop at Walmart? I’m not asking to start a discussion about urban sprawl or fighting the man or lousy produce or price-slashing. Nope.

I’m here today to discuss the rebranding of Walmart’s generic brand, Great Value.

Have you seen it? Do you like it?

I’ve been thinking of posting about this for a couple weeks and then on Saturday, Mark reminded me of one of the many reasons I love him. As we were in the kitchen, getting ready for Annalyn’s party, he asked: “So, what do you think of the new Walmart look?”

Well, Mark, I’m glad you asked. (Seriously. I love that he knows that I would have an opinion – and that he cares about what that opinion is.)

I don’t think I like it. I will agree that the rebranding has unified the Great Value look, leaving the consumer little doubt about which products are Great Value.

In other words, you can’t miss it. Those boring, blank white boxes are Great Value.

And that’s my issue with it. The blank, white look, especially in mass, makes me think cheap. And while I want my groceries to cost less, I don’t really want to believe that they’re cheap.

You know?

So, any thoughts? Like it? Hate it? Not sure why anyone would care about a logo?

If you raised your hand to the latter question, I can’t help you. But if you’re all over logos and branding and that sort of fun thing, here’s a bonus for you. Check out the Logo Quiz and the Company Logo Quiz.

Too Many Choices, Not Enough Life?

In 2004, I read an article in Newsweek that rang so true and moved me so much that I tore it out and kept that piece of slick paper in a file folder for five years. Written by a young woman my age, I Can Do Anything, So How Do I Choose? hit home. When the author said, "[W]e are now discovering the difficulty of deciding just what makes us happy in a world of innumerable options," I knew exactly what she meant.

After all, I'm the girl who changed her major four times in four years. And in the less than 10 years since I graduated, I haven't just had several different jobs, I've had several different this-is-it-I've-found-my-true-calling-and-I-will-do-this-forever career paths.

So when Thomas Nelson Publishing offered the chance to read Marcus Buckingham's latest book, called Find Your Strongest Life: What the Happiest and Most Successful Women Do Differently, I jumped on it.

Especially when I found out the book - and Buckingham's philosophy - involved a personality test. I do love answering multiple choice quizzes to find out how weird awesome I am.

Before I tell you what I learned in this book, go take the quiz. Go on. I'll wait. Take the Strong Life Test.

So, what are your roles? I'm an Influencer and a Motivator. I'm still waiting for the definitive answer of what exactly that means, what I should be when I grow up, what will finally make me feel strong, successful, fulfilled.

But even though it didn't give me the exact answer I'm looking for, reading Find Your Strongest Life has given me a few more tools for getting to that answer.

Buckingham worked for Gallup Organization and has years of experience figuring out what makes people tick. And one trend he noticed in that time is that women, as a whole, are not happy and successful. He says that we're paralyzed by too many choices.

Not that he's implying women should have fewer options. Instead, he believes women need to learn how to better go about making our choices, how to deal with all the options we have. He suggests thinking back - over the last week, into your childhood, whatever it takes - to find the moments when you feel your strongest. And those are the moments we should, he says, catch and cradle. And then use in our primary and secondary roles (from the Strong Life Test) to create a full an fulfilling life.

No juggling. No talk of balance. Can you believe that?

It sounds a little crazy, not what we're used to hearing. But you know what? I think he might be on to something. (And, for the record, dozens of women who participated in an Oprah workshop with Buckingham seem to agree.)

I haven't quite sorted through all the things that I read in this book. But it's making me think. A lot.

As for the book itself, I loved that Buckingham used lots of real-life examples of women who have made choices and found their strong lives. I could have done without all the background and build-up in the first half of the book, but I've written enough research papers to understand why he structured it that way.

If you want to live a strong life and aren't quite there yet, check out Find Your Strongest Life: What the Happiest and Most Successful Women Do Differently.

Are you living a strong life? Yes or no, I'd love to hear about it!

Going bananas for cupcakes

For Annalyn's monkey-themed birthday party on Saturday, I decided that ordering a cake would be just too easy. I mean, why have someone else bake a cake when you can bake 48 individual cakes yourself?

Isn't that my motto?

Seriously, after looking at our grocery store's idea of a monkey cake, I decided that making one myself might be better. I know what you're thinking: that must have been one ugly monkey cake!

And you're right.

After consulting Mr. Google, I found - among many complicated looking monkey face cakes - a Betty Crocker recipe for banana chocolate chip cupcakes. Get it? Bananas? Monkeys?

Right.

The only question that remained was how to make them party-cute. You know what I mean . . . plain cupcakes won't cut it for my baby girl's second birthday party!

With that thought in mind, I made the mistake of searching Etsy for ideas. Why do I do that to myself? Why?

Dear People of Etsy,

Please stop making so many cute things that I cannot afford to buy. Thank you.

Love,
Mary

After deciding that I just could not justify spending the money being - rightfully, I am sure - charged for the cutest little cupcake toppers I've ever seen, I looked again at my cupcake recipe. That's when I noticed it: their cupcakes had miniature bananas on top! Sooo cute! And so easy, right?

According to Betty Crocker, it sure is. The recipe says, and I quote, "Special Touch: Garnish cupcakes with banana-shaped candies. Look for them in the candy aisle of the supermarket."

Oh, I did, Betty. And I found nada. Zilch. Nuttin'. Apparently banana-shaped candies are a mythical thing like the unicorn and self-tanner that doesn't streak.

Don't tell me about Runts. I know about Runts. I like Runts - especially the strawberry pieces. But it seems ol' Willy Wonka and the Runts have fallen on hard times, because they aren't selling in these parts. I looked at our grocery store, two Walmarts and a Target for these stupid candies. I even - at the very last minute - called the local candy store in the nearby, almost completely dead mall.

It had closed.

So, it was back to the cupcake toppers. Which I made myself. And turned out pretty cute - without even taking a million hours to make.

But the real masterpiece was the cupcakes themselves. Mark wasn't a fan, but I thought they were delicious! And after frosting four dozen of them, I got pretty good at making the top look all swirly and pretty.

Four dozen is a LOT of cupcakes. Not to bake. Although I did have to actually break out my mixer and measuring cups and everything. But to frost? It's kind of a lot.

I think it was worth it, though. Things didn't exactly go according to plan with Annalyn's party. The weather didn't cooperate, so the park shelter we reserved (and, ahem, paid for) didn't really work out for our get-together. An hour before the party was scheduled to start, we decided it was just too darned cold and moved it to the house.

We moved it to the house, where I decided I did not need the green streamers to look like vines (Get it? Vines? Jungle? Monkey?). And I told myself that by cramming 30 people into our tiny house, the unswept floors would not be visible, much less noticeable.

So the party plans didn't all work out quite right. But we did have a great time. And people seemed to like my cupcakes . . . especially the birthday girl!

Here’s the recipe. Check out Mouthwatering Monday and Tasty Tuesday (tomorrow, obviously) for more recipes. And visit Blissfully Domestic for some domestic bliss (go figure).

Banana Chocolate Chip Cupcakes

1 box yellow cake mix
2 very ripe medium bananas, mashed (about 1 cup)
½ cup water
¼ cup butter or margarine, softened
3 eggs
¾ cup miniature semisweet chocolate chips
1 container (1 lb) chocolate frosting

Prep Time: 25 min
Total Time: 1 hour 20 min
Makes: 24 cupcakes

1. Heat oven to 375 degrees. Place paper baking cup in each of 24 regular-size muffins cups.
2. In large bowl, beat cake mix, bananas, water, butter and eggs with electric mixer on low speed 30 seconds. Beat on medium speed two minutes, scraping bowl occasionally. Using spoon, stir in chocolate chips. Spoon batter evenly into muffin cups.
3. Bake 18 to 22 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Remove from pan to cooling racks. Cool completely, about 30 minutes. Frost cupcakes with frosting.

Enjoy!

Random Readings, 10.3.09

Looks like lots of folks are starting fun things in October. You’d think it was the beginning of a new season or something!

• Simple Mom is so smart. I may not be as green or organized or simple (in a good way) as her, but I am definitely going to try to take advantage of her latest plan for simple living. 12 Weeks to a Peaceful Christmas starts with a budget and takes us through the cleaning (ugh.), and overall, looks like something I need in my life.
• Do you know The Nester? She is amazing. And sweet. Her creations and ideas blow me away, even when she says things like, “Tuck red and orange berry picks into your current arrangements and wreaths .” My current arrangements? Seriously. But this month, the Nester is hosting 31 Days to a Better Dressed Nest, and I think even decorating dummies like me can handle it.
• I listen to K-LOVE most mornings on the way to work. And yesterday, I heard the morning team say that they’re doing the same thing I am this month: reading the 31 chapters of Proverbs during the 31 days of October. It’s not too late to join us! (I say, as if they really know me and we're in it together...)
• Have you read any good blog posts or articles lately? My favorite post of this last week was Becca’s post about measuring up.
• By the way, you can see other posts I recommend through Google Shared Items. (They're also featured in a widget in my right sidebar.)
• And don’t forget: get your favorite Halloween stories, ideas, recipes and memories ready for my carnival on October 30: Giving Up on a Perfect Halloween.

Have a great weekend! I suspect we’ll be up to our ears in banana-flavored treats, monkey-themed decorations, pink tissue paper and little girl giggles!

“I learned more from the stains than I did the paper.”

Yesterday I planned to run a few errands over my lunch break. Annalyn’s birthday party is on Saturday, and this was really my last opportunity to pick up a few things without having her along for the ride.

(You might find this surprising, but most errands and chores are easier on the rare occasion I find myself alone.)

I told Mark that I wouldn’t be coming home for lunch, and that was that.

Until lunchtime. When Mark and Annalyn showed up at my office. Reportedly, that little girl had spent the last hour saying, “Mommy? See her? Mommy? See her?”

So being the good dad that he is, Mark brought her to see her mommy.

Okayyyyyy. Off to Target we went. We swept through the baby section, searching for a birthday party outfit and hurried over to the candy section to look for candy bananas to put on the cupcakes. Then as I paid for a shirt, a pair of pants, some small black shoes and a stuffed Elmo that I’d hid behind my back for 10 minutes, Mark got Annalyn buckled into the car. I ran out of the store (okay, I walked briskly, let’s be real here), and we sped off to McDonald’s, where we snarfed value meals and begged Annalyn to eat something other than our fries.

And where I found myself saying, “Stop! Don’t touch me with those hands! Here, use this napkin. Yuck! Baby girl! Those are my work pants!”

I know, I know. Somehow, I let my errands and my work pants become more important than spending time with my daughter. I focused on not getting to the other store and the thought of stinky ketchup on my sleeve. And I almost missed that sweet girl just wanting to be with her mommy.

“Mommy? See her?” How could I think anything else was more important than that?

Reba McEntire sings a song called “Is There Life Out There?” and the video makes me cry every darned time I see it. It’s more of a mini-movie, really, about a mother who goes back to school and earns her college degree.

At the end of the video, her teacher returns a paper with an A but suggests she not submit stained work in the future. Those pages were stained because her daughter accidentally spilled coffee on her typewriter-typed report, an incident that reminded Reba’s character what was really important.

Reba tells her teacher, “I learned more from the stains than I did the paper.”

As I fussed at Annalyn about the ketchup on my sleeve and my pants, I thought about that scene.

I don’t want to be too busy to love on Annalyn. Time goes too fast and she’s already growing too much. I know this stage of Mommy-love and more hugs and one more kiss won’t last.

When we got back to my office – with a few minutes to spare, even – Mark told Annalyn to say goodbye.

“Buh-bye!” she said with a smile.
“How about a hug?” I asked.
“Okay!”
"I love you!" I said as she and Mark walked away.
"Wuv. Ooo."

Turns out I had plenty of time to do my other errand after work. And I’m pretty sure nobody noticed the ketchup stains on my clothes. Although it wouldn’t have mattered if they did. One day not far enough from now, I’ll be the one saying, “Annalyn? See her?”

So I’m taking all the hugs and kisses and unexpected lunch visits I can get.