More Than Defined: The Patriotic Version

And no, I wasn’t just looking for any excuse to post this cute picture of Annalyn. Nope. Not me.

When my friend Triple’s husband was deployed to Iraq with the Army Reserves, I made the mistake of reading a Karen Kingsbury book about a soldier. I can still see myself, laying on the couch with that paperback and sobbing my eyes out.

Another time, I sat in my car, parked in the garage, crying the ugly cry to Trace Adkin’s song, Arlington. (You’d better believe I never let that one play on my radio again!)

A little part of me didn’t breathe the whole time he was gone.

Maybe that’s why Ashleigh’s posts (here and here) describing her husband’s deployment to Afghanistan bring me to my knees.

Or maybe I’m a patriotic sap.

In the sixth grade {I think it was sixth grade. Smitty, is that right?}, our class had a patriotic concert. I don’t remember exactly why we were celebrating America that year over any other. But celebrate we did, with matching t-shirts and everything.

We sang all the usual patriotic songs (Battle Hymn of the Republic, America the Beautiful, America by Neil Diamond. I’m kidding. We didn’t sing Neil Diamond.), but what I remember most is rehearsing and performing Lee Greenwood’s God Bless the USA.

Every time we practiced that song, some of the more annoying boys (and let’s face it: in middle school, they’re all annoying) would literally stand up when we sang, “And I’d gladly stand up, next to you, and defend her still today.” Every single time.

And, okay, sometimes the [completely mature and not at all annoying] girls did it, too. So now, when I hear that song, I have this crazy urge to stand up. Which could be disastrous, considering that I most often hear it in the car.

Once I stop giggling at my junior high ridiculousness, I always find myself singing along. Singing along – and crying.

Because patriotism and this country and soldiers and Lee Greenwood get me all sorts of emotional.

I’m not sure why. A lot of it probably comes from my family’s military heritage. My granddad was an Army man, and that really influenced my family. As in jump when I say jump and quarters better bounce off that bed made with hospital corners. But also as in respect and honor this country and the men and women who protect and serve it.

Some of my patriotism also comes from my years in Camp Fire Girls. I learned how to fold a flag, and I know the words to Taps – although I won’t sing it for you, because that’s another one that never fails to make me cry. Since it was played at my granddad’s funeral, I don’t really need an explanation for that one.

I think my love of country is a good thing that doesn’t need analysis. But it’s possible that it gets a little out of control sometimes. In addition to the crazy tears over fictional soldiers and a commitment to watching Every Single Episode of JAG and NCIS, I recently found myself playing the Flag Watchdog at work.

More than once, I’ve questioned whether the flag should be flying at half-mast. Once I was right and they pulled it up. The other time…also known as yesterday…it turns out a senator died and the President had made a proclamation. I just hadn’t gotten the memo.

Oops.

So, welcome to another installment of Meet My Crazy. I’m patriotic and a big bawl baby who cries over anything involving flags or camouflage. How about you?

How will you celebrate our country this weekend? And have you ever told your company’s CFO that he needs to hoist the flag to the top of the pole??

For more More Than Defined, read about why I consider myself Generation X and Southern.

Affiliate links were used in this post. Feel free to click away and help me earn a couple pennies!

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How do you take your tea?

One summer my cousins babysat my brother and me while we were out of school. I don’t remember the details, like if it was every day, where my parents were working at the time or even how old we were. And actually, the memories I have associated with that time may, in fact, be from summers stretched across a few years.

What I do remember are walks uptown to the drugstore, climbing the fence in the backyard to walk to the drive-in, listening to the great music of the 80s – and cooking disasters.

There for a while, the family had a grand old time laughing at our mistakes in the kitchen. I remember a broken garbage disposal, something baked without sugar, monster cookies (which most certainly were NOT a mistake – mmmm!) and a loaf of bread catching on fire in the microwave.

Now that I think about it, though, I’m pretty sure my brother and I were on our own when the microwave burst into flames. My mom never asked about the burnt spot in the door. And we never brought it up.

The cooking story from those summers that still cracks me up is about the time we made tea.

First of all, you need to know that my family is from the South. If you know nothing else about tea, I’m just sure you know that tea is – according to Miss Dolly Parton in Steel Magnolias – the house wine of the South. And my Granny (and my cousins’ Granny) made the best sweet tea you’ve ever had. The tea at our house wasn’t quite so sweet, but it was still our drink of choice. (Still is, although my mom has gotten fancy with some sort of raspberry flavoring.)

One day, my mom told my cousin to make a gallon of tea while she was watching us. And while she told her to put ¾ cup sugar in the tea, my cousin thought she said three or four cups of sugar.

Well, I won’t lie. I thought that tea was just perfect. After all, to me it tasted just like Granny’s tea! My mom was not so impressed. And to this day, we laugh about making tea with three or four cups of sugar.

I ran across a calendar of random holidays a couple weeks ago, and it turns out that today is National Iced Tea Day. And because I’m a dork (or, as Smitty put it recently, I “like researching everything under the sun”), I decided to look into the issue of tea.

According to Wikipedia (and who would know better), “the oldest printed recipes for iced tea date back to the 1870s. It is not unusual to read that iced tea was popularized, perhaps even created, at the 1904 World's Fair in St. Louis by Richard Blechynden, but this appears to be an urban legend.”

So don’t go perpetuating that World’s Fair myth, because Wikipedia says it’s just not true.

I’m not sure it really matters when iced tea was invented, because, as John Egerton said, “Iced tea is too pure and natural a creation not to have been invented as soon as tea, ice, and hot weather crossed paths.”

When it comes to sweet tea (or, I suppose we can say iced tea in general, but really, who needs dirty water, as my friend Hillary calls it?), some people really do go crazy.

There’s Kristen with We Are THAT Family, who blogged, Tweeted and vlogged herself into a cow costume for free sweet tea at Chick-fil-A.

And there’s my husband, who has recently gone on a city-wide search for Lipton PureLeaf Iced Tea. You can get the individual bottles of the magical stuff (Seriously, it’s good. It does not taste like bottled or pre-made tea at all.) at the gas station, but we really need a gallon of the stuff for that man. He is, after all, the one my mom makes an extra gallon of tea for at family dinners – setting the carafe (yes, we’re fayncee) next to his plate so she doesn’t have to get up and refill his glass half a dozen times while we eat.

And then there’s this: Anita Renfroe, singing an ode to sweet tea.



If you can’t view the embedded video, click here to watch Big Ol’ Sweet Ice Tea.

As C.S. Lewis said himself, “You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.” [And yes, I am going to let myself believe he’s talking about sweet iced tea, not that nasty hot stuff in the tiny porcelain cups.]

So, tell me, how do you take your iced tea? Sweet? Southern sweet? In a Mason jar? In a wine glass? Do you make sun tea on the back porch? Do you nuke your tea bags in the microwave? Do you add fruit like my mom, or drink it straight up (don’t even get my husband started on how much he detests lemon in his tea)?

Image by House of Sims

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Granny's gold couch

Remember when I asked you to choose which couch I would write about? No? It’s been too long? Well, then, this will be new and exciting for you.

Or not. I am writing about a couch.

After tallying up the votes, it has become clear. You all are dying to know about my grandparents’ brown, gold and orange flowered couch.

[You all have weird taste. Kidding. But seriously? Orange flowers?]

Are you wondering why it’s taken me so long to get around to writing this post? Part of it is only that I’m a mess, always behind and doing things last-minute. This, I’m sure, comes as no surprise. But the other part is that I have so many random, seemingly unconnected thoughts and memories with that couch. It’s actually been hard to figure out how to write about it.

So I decided to make a list. Then I decided to do it on Tuesday. And that is how I came up with this Top Ten Tuesday list.

The Top 10 Things I Love About Granny’s Gold Couch:

1. It was retro before retro was cool.
2. As kids, we never had to worry about spilling. Those hideous flowers really hid stains well.
3. I have so many pictures of my cousins and me sitting on that couch, all bunched up together and laughing. Or posing. Or all looking in different directions. (above) You know, we didn’t have digital cameras back then.
4. It really was comfortable!
5. I know this well, because Mark moved into his first apartment around the same time Granny moved into assisted living. She sold that couch – and a matching chair, side tables and two orange lamps – to Mark for just $100.
6. If it hadn’t been for that couch, we probably wouldn’t have had anywhere for visitors to sit in our first apartment after getting married. With it, we had ample seating for our couples’ Bible study, various “dinner parties” (a.k.a. Little Caesar’s pizza for all or a taco bar on a card table), and just hanging out with our friends.
7. Owning and living with that couch in all its gold and orange flowered glory really made me appreciate the first couch we bought. Blue and green plaid, if you’re wondering, for quite a bit more than $100 (and, sadly, quite a bit more than we could really afford).
8. Back to the fact that I grew up sitting on this couch at my grandparents’ house . . . just thinking about it has taken me on a rabbit trail down memory lane, bringing to mind the sounds of Channel 5 news and Hee Haw, the taste of pudding cups and Pop Tarts (okay, that one isn’t a stretch), the sight of a wooden calendar and green coveralls, and the simple pleasures of feeding the birds, eating a brisket and going to the beauty parlor.
9. The couch’s matching chair made a great spot for the birthday girl to open – or, at least, pose with – her presents (below).
10. And apparently, the couch was so great that they bought it twice! Look at those pictures. The two chairs? Not the same. Both are gold, brown and orange. Both have flowers and fake wood. But they are different chairs. That, my friends, is priceless.

So, what about you? Are any of your memories connected to furniture?

ALSO - if you haven't taken my blog survey yet, would you please? It really won’t take more than a few minutes, and I really want to know what you all think about what goes on around here. Thank you!

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Under the influence

I spent Saturday and most of Sunday driving and scrapbooking. (Not at the same time! Don't be crazy.) My two cousins and I went to a scrapbooking retreat at a crafting bed and breakfast place a couple blocks away from my cousin's town - three hours away from my house.

The original plan was for Mark and Annalyn to go with me and spend the weekend with my cousin's husband and four kids. Unfortunately, said husband and kids spent last week puking and fighting a nasty fever. So I was on my own.

And I didn't mind at all. Driving alone for hours gave me the opportunity to sing at the top of my lungs to a ridiculous variety of music, from Lady Gaga to Hall & Oates to Kid Rock to Ronnie Milsap.

Hey, don't judge. I had to do something to distract me from the view.

As much as I appreciate the beauty of the Kansas plains - and I do - it's a little easier to enjoy the view in the spring. Or the fall. Or, basically, any season but the winter without snow.

Although I did see several calves - jumping and frolicking. Before you ask, no, I didn't get any pictures of that. Actually, the only other picture I got since Friday was one that captures what the weekend was about:

My cousins are five and six years older than me, and when we were growing up, I idolized looked up to them. Until I outgrew them (AHEM.), I wore their cool hand-me-down clothes. I practiced - for hours - the simple dance routine they taught me from their drill team days. And even this weekend, they were taking care of me - letting me borrow their scrapbooking tools and encouraging me that my layouts looked fine when I was sure they looked terrible.

And teaching me to drink wine.

Oh, I didn't mention that before? Yeah. On Saturday night, they ran to Walmart to pick up some photos and came back with two brown bags. I don't remember what kind of wine it was, but believe you me, I will find out.

I don't like the taste of alcohol, so it's never been a temptation to me. This is a good thing, considering my family history, and I've never argued with the fact. But this wine? Deeelish.

Fruity drinks - like rum punch or Smirnoff apple - are great, but I can only drink one or two, because they're just too sweet. But this wonderful sweet wine wasn't overly sweet. It was just right.

Maybe I won't find out what it was called. This could be dangerous.

Kind of like that time I went to Oceans of Fun with my cousins and wore one of their swimsuits. It was cut higher on the legs than mine that I'd worn all summer. That wouldn't have been a problem - except when I saw them slathering on baby oil, I had to do it, too. And if there's one place you don't want the worst sunburn of your young life, it's the space on your legs between your swimsuit and your borrowed swimsuit.

Who did you look up to as a child? And what did you do this weekend?

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Just like Mom used to make

Mark's mom was an amazing cook. And for every special occasion, she made a special apple cake for her youngest son (her baby, if you will).

I tried to make it once. I had her recipe, and I followed it to a T. I thought it turned out pretty well, but Mark made the unfortunate choice to say, "It's pretty good, but it doesn't taste like Mom's."

Or something like that. This was several years ago, but you get the point, I'm sure.

(I don't hold it against him. He's also said that I make better lasagna than she ever did, and that was even before I tried out the Pioneer Woman's recipe.)

A few years ago, I went to my first Tastefully Simple party. It was on that night that I discovered the solution to all our apple cake problems.

Nana's Apple Cake Mix literally takes two minutes to fix. And it tastes WAY better than I remember a certain mother-in-law's homemade from scratch cake! (Okay, that might not be true. But since I've given up baking for REAL, it's what I'm telling myself.)

I'd planned to make the cake for Mark's birthday, but that didn't happen. I did, however, manage to throw it together for Valentine's Day. Annnnnnd it was delicious. (Annnnnd it's already gone!)

Have you ever tried to make a family recipe - and failed?

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My 2010 New Year's Resolutions

Image by katehra

It’s that time of year again, isn’t it? In the past week, I’ve read post after post about New Year’s resolutions. So of course I’m going to join the party.

Would you be surprised to know that I have a two-page typed document with my goals listed out with various strategies and tactics for achieving each one? Right. No. I know.

Don’t worry. I know your eyes are still bleeding from yesterday’s crazy long post. So I’ll keep this short and sweet. Here are my goals for 2010:

1. Read the Bible all the way through. I’ve never done this, so I finally did what I’ve said I should for the past couple of years: I bought a One Year Bible. Granted, it’s now the 8th and I’ve just gotten started. But I have gotten started.
2. Obtain and maintain a healthy weight. I started a water aerobics class on Monday, and I’m still a member of Weight Watchers. This is the year I will get healthy.
3. Improve our finances: live within a budget, save more and pay off some debt. I’ve already increased the amount automatically deposited to savings each month, and I’ve allocated extra paychecks to pay for car maintenance, gifts and vacation. Now it’s a matter of sticking to my revised monthly budget and figuring out how to pay for birthdays and Christmas.
4. Go on monthly dates with Mark. I’ve got most months mapped out. I’ve already bought concert tickets for April, and we’re hoping to take a trip to Chicago in May. Most months will be smaller affairs, though, like a movie or a trip to Target. You know how I love both of those outings!
5. Roll with the punches in our life with a toddler. In other words, potty training, moving to a big girl bed, working on our bedtime routine and possibly starting piano lessons. Yikes, that’s a lot of big stuff!

I’d also like to take a photography class, increase my blog traffic by providing better content and community, start a cooking club with my girlfriends, read some good books, stay fairly caught up on my scrapbooking and get a new job. But I’m not putting those on the main list. Short and sweet, remember?

Now, what about you? Have you blogged about your New Year’s resolutions and/or 2010 goals? I’d love to read it, so link up below!

If you aren’t going to blog about it, I hope you’ll still share your goals in the comments!



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Top 10 Highlights of Our Merry Christmas Marathon

Whew! Three weeks of hectic holidays is a bit much! But we are blessed with lots of family nearby and a month full of celebration. And so the season tends to go on . . . and on . . . and on for us.

I have tried to write this holiday recap so many times. But for some reason, I just can’t quite get my brain organized. I think it’s a victim of too much holiday cheer.

And so I must rely on the old standby: A LIST. I’ll try to make this an abridged version, but let’s be honest: I don’t do short. So sit back, get comfy and take a tour of our crazy Christmas! (And then, please, tell me all about yours, too!)

1. Visiting Iowa for my brother’s Christmas program. We also got to spend the night with Chelley (and meet her kitty, Dinah) and hang out with Triple and Cory. The trip was too short, but the good news is we headed north after the state was hit with a blizzard.
   
   
2. My 31st birthday fell on a Friday this year, which if you know me at all, you know that means perfect timing for a wild and crazy night on the town. Unfortunately, I’m a little old for that. Mark helped Annalyn learn to say, “Happy birthday, Mommy.” Then Smitty and I went to dinner, walked around Barnes & Noble and realized that we are too old for anything wild or crazy.
   
   The following night, Mark and I enjoyed way more cheese, garlic and bread than we really needed, thanks to an Olive Garden gift card from my parents.
   
   
3. You may recall that I auditioned for a solo at church a while back. It turns out I was part of our Christmas program, and it went great. Well, I don’t know for sure. Because I forgot to have Mark bring the video camera. But lots of people said it was good, so I’m going to just go with that. Plus I got the chance to wear my super cute, found it in less than 30 minutes, got in for less than $30 on sale new dress.
   
   
4. Christmas Eve was spent with my parents, and the most exciting part of the night was when they gave Annalyn fuzzy pink slippers. You’d have thought they were Cinderella’s glass slippers! That girl LOVES her slippers!
   
   
   
   
   
5. Santa didn’t bring too much for Annalyn this year (trying to stick to the budget and all that), but our sweet girl loved each and every present. From her Minnie Mouse bowl and plate to her new sweater and jeans to a new Veggie Tales video to the Laugh ‘N Learn Playhouse she decided is actually Mickey Mouse’s clubhouse, she was thrilled with them all.
   
   Aside from the playhouse, though, I think she enjoyed watching Mark shovel the driveway most of all. (Based on the two days of heating pad and Aleve that followed, I don’t think that was the highlight of Mark’s morning.)
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
6. On the Saturday after Christmas, we had the chance to visit with our friends, John and Katie. Since they moved across the country three years ago, we only see each other about once a year. And that is not nearly often enough! Thanks to the snow, our short visit was even shorter, but we were so thankful for the time we got to spend with our dear friends. I’m not sure what the boys talked about, but Katie and I covered potty training, discipline, whining, jobs, church and in-laws in short order. I’m really hoping we can see them for more than an hour or so later this year.
   
   
7. For months now, Smitty, Mark and I have been looking forward to The Big Day. While you might think I’m referring to Christmas – and while that would be nice of us – I’m actually talking about the release of Sherlock Holmes. We were bummed out that it didn’t come out until after my birthday, but it worked out after all, because I got movie passes for that birthday! So, the day after Christmas, Mark’s brother was kind enough to watch Annalyn so the three of us could head to the theater. The movie was great, and the company was the best. It was one great night.
   
   
8. As I mentioned yesterday, New Year’s Eve was a quiet affair. During a heated game of Taboo, I got “sweltering” after just a word or two from Smitty. We were on fire! (Ha. Get it? Heated . . . sweltering . . . on fire?! I know. This may be why my New Year’s Eve party was a small one.)
   
   
9. On New Year’s Day, we hung out at my parents’ house. My brother and sister-in-law couldn’t make it down on actual Christmas Day, so we moved our celebration back a week. There was a delicious glazed pork loin, some au gratin potatoes from a box that were much tastier than they should have been, presents (Yyay for new rugs! And a George Foreman grill! And a play kitchen for Annalyn!), board games, snacks and sandwiches. And then, even though I wasn’t sure the day could get better, my parents generously let me talk them into keeping Annalyn for the night.
   
   Which allowed Mark and me to do one of the things young parents crave most: take a quiet, leisurely trip to Target.
   
   
10. Mark’s birthday landed on a Tuesday this year, so it wasn’t quite as exciting as mine. But one Outback Steakhouse lunch, one bacon shirt and one Jim Gaffigan DVD later, I’m pretty sure he was as happy as anyone going to work on his birthday can be.

Okay, I’m stopping at 10. But honorable mentions definitely go to Christmas at Grandma’s (with green punch and a cousin for Annalyn to play with/fight with), Christmas with Mark’s family (with delicious Pioneer Woman lasagna and Blissfully Domestic bread – yum!), and Christmas with my extended family (with a jam session, three kinds of corn and my cousin’s husband Chad sitting on Mark’s lap and calling him Santa).

And did I mention our most exciting gifts: big girl panties and a Mizzou Snuggie?!

This list that lasted longer than the actual Christmas season will be linked to OhAmanda's Top Ten Tuesday.

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Making a list and checking it twice.

It’s the end of a year and the end of a decade. You know what that means: best-of lists, and lots of them. Before we make it to New Year’s Eve, I’ll probably break down and share a few of my favorite lists with you. But for now, I’m just going to play along with Gwen Bell’s Best of 2009 Blog Challenge. (Hat tip: George from Crocs)

Gwen has a question for each day of the month, asking about one “best” from your year. I’m going to answer a few each week. If you want to play along, too – whether every day, once a week or one time only – check out the full list of questions.

#1 What was your best trip in 2009?
I took several trips this last year, more than normal. Two blogging conferences (Blissdom and SheSpeaks), two scrapbooking weekends with my cousins, a day trip to Columbia for my anniversary with Mark, a long weekend to Branson to visit college friends, and a weeklong Florida vacation.

How can I choose just one? I mean, I could go through a list of pros and cons for each, tally them up and then announce a winner. That might take a while, though.

I think I’ll do this instead. I’m going to call each of the trips a winner. A winner in my heart.

• Blogging conferences were amazing for meeting friends and learning about some amazing opportunities God has placed in my life.
• Scrapbooking weekends were great because I accomplished a lot and got to spend time with my cousins.
• Columbia was a nice break and gave Mark and me some much-needed time together.
• And it was so much fun to catch up with our friends from college over Labor Day weekend.

But, okay, you’re going to make me do it. Fine. I’ll pick a winner. The best trip I took in 2009 was our Florida vacation.

Mark and I got four long days alone, we swam with a dolphin, we stayed in a really nice hotel (that overlooked a really cheesy souvenir shop, but I’m not picky), and we drove through a torrential downpour to see the ocean. And then Annalyn flew down with my parents, brother and sister-in-law. We hung out with family, played in the pool and at the beach, and generally had a lot of fun.

#2 What was the best restaurant experience you had this year?
I’ve got three. First would be the first time we visited Five Guys. Those greasy delicious burgers are soooo good! And the fries? I don’t even care that you can see the grease spots on the brown bag they hand you at the counter. They. Are. Good.

Second restaurant experience I loved this last year was when our favorite waitress at our favorite restaurant actually recited Mark’s “usual” back to him. She even remembered, “Substitute CCQ for the red sauce.”

Last but best is eating at Shakespeare’s Pizza with Mark. During our anniversary road trip to Columbia, we ate dinner at our old fave. We discussed and debated, but we just couldn’t decide: Is the pizza really that good, or does novelty and nostalgia just convince us it’s good? It’s hard to tell, but either way, the pizza was great and we had so much fun.

#3 What article did you read this last year that blew you away?
Just one? Seriously? Okay, I cannot possibly list every article that taught me something, touched my heart, influenced my behavior or just plain cracked me up. But the most life-changing articles I read were, by far, the posts written by the Compassion bloggers who traveled to India.

#4 What book – fiction or non – touched you most in 2009?
I've read so many!! Here’s what I really need: a list of books I’ve read. I signed up for GoodReads, but darned if I remember to log back in and update my list! The library won’t tell me what books I’ve checked out. Something about privacy laws or something. Thankfully, I know what book rocked me this year. And that is Mark Batterson’s In a Pit with a Lion on a Snowy Day. If you missed my review, you can read about it here.

All right. Now it’s your turn. Tell me about your best trip, restaurant, article or book!

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While you're up . . .

When my brother and I were growing up, we played a little game in our family. If we needed a drink refill or a box of Kleenex or the remote or anything, really, out of reach, we wouldn't get up and get it ourselves. We'd wait until someone else took the initiative to get up to do something productive and then we'd say, "While you're up . . . " and make our request!

Sadly, Mark and I have been known to play the same game. But I've heard about some cool "while you're up" ways to give this Christmas, and I think you're going to like them.

Hey, at least I'm not asking you to refill my iced tea while you're up.

First order of business is this: How do you feel about gift cards? Let's just get it out on the table. Do you think they're tacky? Practical? Fun? Boring? What do you think?

A certain mother I know has often said that it’s a tacky gift. Then again, this is the same mother who gave her daughter a Victoria’s Secret gift card.

That’s what I get for mentioning my need for new underwear.

Ahem. Anyway. Here’s my take on gift cards (because, yes, I know you were wondering): I think they’re great.

Now, does that mean I want a gift card in place of every gift I ever receive? No. It just means that if someone can’t think of what to get me or lives far away and doesn’t want to spend part of the gift budget on postage, it’s not going to hurt my feelings if I open up the envelope and find a gift card to Kohl’s. Or Target. Or Walmart, really. I’m not picky.

[Unless your name is Mark. And then you’d better be digging deep, reading and interpreting my innermost thoughts and feelings, so you can buy the 12 perfect gifts that show just how well you know me and how deeply you care for me.]

But everyone else can totally get away with a gift card.

There's no easier gift to give than a gift card. Unless it’s a donation to charity. Have you ever gotten that one before? (Why do I feel like a stand-up comic right about now? No, not because I think I’m so funny. I think it’s how I phrased that or something.)

Anyway. Have you? Or have you donated to a charity in someone’s name as a gift? Did they like it? I’m not sure I’d love that gift. I mean, the thought is nice. And I suppose if the day comes that I never need new underwear (I’m kidding, Mom.), the thought would be enough for me.

But I’m not sure.

How about this, though? What if we combine the gift card that I get to spend with the donation to charity that you get to deduct and we both get to feel good about? What about that?

Well, friends, I’m happy to tell you that that is exactly what Clayton Nicholas and Jeff Jacobs had in mind when they created GiveCard in 2007.

The GiveCard is a prepaid gift card that shares a set value (determined by the giver and starting at $5) with the charity of the recipient’s choice. The balance of the card spends just like a Visa debit card. Because, I think, it is a Visa debit card. It’s just a charitable one.

It’s the gift that keeps on giving. Or . . . it’s two gifts in one! Um . . . it really is the thought that counts?

Well, whatever cliché we decide to use here, this is a great idea! GiveCard can be used to contribute to more than 5,000 charities – and in an age when charitable giving is down around the globe, every dollar (or five dollars) counts.

So, what do you think? Are gift cards in or out this year?

If you’re looking for more ways to help others while doing your own holiday shopping this year, here are a few ideas:

• If you like to shop on Amazon as much as I do (and let's put it this way: I got four packages from them just yesterday), you can donate without actually donating by clicking on this Amazon.com link before making purchases. Thrive Africa gets a small referral fee when you buy anything from Amazon after you follow the link. Thrive is an amazing ministry founded by my sweet bloggy friend, Alece.
• Kraft Foods and American Greetings have teamed up to feed the hungry this holiday season. For every e-greeting you send through Recipe for Joy, Kraft will donate 10 meals to Feeding America.
• And last but not least, Dayspring is offering a 15% discount off their Christmas photo cards. Just design your card and use the code CHILDREN15 when you check out. You’ll get 15% off – and here’s the best part – 6% of the sale goes directly to Compassion International!

What are you waiting for? While you're up, double the giving, double the fun. What, you thought I was finished with the lame clichés? Fine. I'll stop. But giving while I'm up works for me!

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Four Days

Four days to spend with family.
Four days that Mark didn't have to go to work.
Four days that I didn't have to go to work.
Four days to play with my baby.
Four days to eat ridiculous amounts of delicious food.
Four days to make lists, scan flyers, map out stores and hit sales.
Four days to spend half our Christmas budget.
Four days to get coughed and sneezed on.
Four days to catch a cold. (Annalyn, not me.)
Four days to fill up my purse with post-its, receipts, tissues and wrappers.
Four days to clean the house and mess it up again.
Four days to read one book and watch three movies.
Four days to laugh and cry and love and fight and plan and remember.
Four days to celebrate Thanksgiving.

How was your Thanksgiving weekend?

P.S. If you missed it yesterday, I was at (in)courage, talking about my list of hard questions. And in case you're not quite ready to return to the real world just yet, don't miss my favorite (fictional) Thanksgiving scenes.

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Giving Up on a Perfect Thanksgiving

Don't even tell me if you're only interested in the giveaway part of this here carnival. Just go ahead and skip to the end. But you should really read the whole post. It's touching. And thought-provoking. And I talk about cats. And Cracker Barrel.

If that's not enough to make you keep reading, well, I just don't know what will do it...

You know how it's so hard to get out the door some days? Especially when you have to be somewhere at a certain time?

It's those days when you can't find your keys or you have a fight with your husband over something stupid. Corralling your kids is like herding cats . . . and keeping your cats out of the garage is like herding kids.

But once you finally get into the car? Whew! You can breathe a sigh of relief.

Sure, you might have to deal with traffic or snow or ice, the kids might be whiny and the car's defrost might smell like mildew, but at least you're on the road.

And then you arrive. It's Thanksgiving, and all the family has gathered to celebrate the holiday. You pile into the house, take off your coats, say your hellos and make the first round of hugs. And then you realize...

You forgot the turkey. At home. Over an hour away.

Now what? Well, if you're my family a few years ago, you simply brown up some hamburger and have tacos for Thanksgiving dinner. Because, really? It's not the turkey that matters.

(And that stressed out family that forgot to pack the turkey in the chaotic mini-van now has dinner for the next week!)

Have you ever had that kind of Thanksgiving?

I wish I were a little more on top of things. Then I would have remembered to dig out and scan a picture of my family on Thanksgiving a few years back. In Florida. At a Cracker Barrel.

It wasn't exactly anyone's idea of the perfect holiday, but my great aunt needed help moving to a new home. And so my mom bought us all tickets and we flew south for the winter - or, at least, for the Thanksgiving weekend.

I won't lie. We didn't have a whole lot of fun that weekend. There was a lot of family stress (Some might even say "dysfunction," but of course I wouldn't. Nope, not me.), and the weather wasn't even that impressive. You'd think Thanksgiving in Florida would be fun - beaches and sunshine and all that, right? Um, no. Not that year.

But here's the thing: We were there for family. And that was the last time we got to see my Granna, my Great Aunt Anna. And I wouldn't trade that for all the homemade turkey dinner and Missouri weather in the world.

So, let's give up on the idea of a "perfect" Thanksgiving. It's okay if your turkey isn't golden brown. Don't worry if you have to celebrate on Friday instead of Thursday. And if someone forgets to put the sugar in the pumpkin pie, let her off the hook (ahem, Shelly).

Because it's not really about the gourmet food. Or the beautiful presentation. Or the autumn decor.

It's about spending time with those family members you only see a few times a year. It's about taking a moment, an hour, a day to thank God for all that He's given us. It's about old and new traditions that have special meaning to our families. It's about the Yahtzee games and the green punch and the Plaza lights and the wishbone and the kids running around and drawing names for Christmas and breaking out the china for the girls and letting the guys watch football - or whatever is important to your family.

Tell me about it. What REALLY matters for your Thanksgiving? When did you have to give up on perfect? What are your plans for next week? Let us have it - in the comments and in your own posts.

That's right! Don't forget - playing along with today's carnival gives you a chance to win one heck of a Thanksgiving prize! One lucky - and, I'm sure, thankful - reader will win this cool stuff:

• An autographed copy of The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Recipes from an Accidental Country Girl
• A matching adult and child's apron from Dayspring's Life Collection
  
• A limited edition (read: I got it at the book signing) Pioneer Woman Book Tour t-shirt

How can you enter this awesome contest? Simple.

• Leave a comment telling me a Thanksgiving memory - perfect or otherwise.
  
• Or subscribe to this blog (and leave a comment telling me you did it).
  
• Or become a fan of Giving Up on Perfect on Facebook (and leave a comment telling me you did it).
• And yes, if you are already subscribed or a fan, that counts. Just leave a comment telling me.

Comments made by midnight on Saturday, November 21, will be eligible. After I consult Random.org, I'll announce the winner on Sunday. Or Monday. Because I'm giving up on perfect, too, remember!



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What's the name of his other leg?

I laughed so hard this weekend.

On Friday, I emailed Smitty to let her know that Annalyn had been requesting her presence. More specifically, she’d been saying her name and calling her silly. Repeatedly. Unprovoked.

I figured that was the same as an invite to come hang out.

Mark also reminded me that I’d agreed to watch our 12-year-old nephew on Friday night. I decided the more, the merrier and rented a movie for all of us to watch.

[Unfortunately, it was a chick flick that Michael wasn’t impressed with – and, honestly, neither were we. But, as tends to happen with cheesy, unrealistic rom-coms, we still found plenty to mock and laugh about.]

So we watched the movie and munched on chocolate chip cookies, but the big fun came later. When we broke out the Uno cards.

See, the cable went out Friday night. And since we have cable internet access, that meant no Facebook stalking and no looking up meaningless details on IMDB. Playing cards was a last resort activity.

But oh, how we laughed! I don’t even know what was funny. I, for one, was not laughing at the score, that’s for sure. Because out of four games (one that lasted longer than the movie, it seemed!), I won ZERO. That’s right. I lost. Every single time.

And on top of that? Smitty called me old. Sure, she said that she meant to say something else. But my younger-by-six-months best friend called me old. And beat me at Uno.

And yet . . . we laughed our heads off! Both Smitty and Michael said they laughed harder than they had in a very long time. And we all had aching cheeks and sides from it.

As if that wasn’t enough, Mark and I had some friends over for dinner on Saturday night and we had such a good time! We ate a lot (a LOT) of cheesy Mexican food and some of us (ahem, boys, ahem) drank an entire two-liter of Dr. Pepper. And then we broke out the Trivial Pursuit.

And again, I lost.

But still, we laughed. We talked about our favorite TV shows (of course), my ridiculous blog (yes, this one), how Brittany and I will never be good Baptist wives (sorry), and many other possibly inappropriate hilarious topics.

The game of Trivial Pursuit may have lasted too long (You would not believe how long it took the girls to come up with Terri Hatcher or how long it took the guys to not come up with Moscow!), but the night ended too soon.

We’re going through Genesis at church, and this week we were reminded that Sunday is a day of rest. We took that to heart, so other than church, we didn’t leave the house. We took rainy afternoon naps, watched some football and some Mickey Mouse Playhouse, and ate leftovers and chili.

Nothing too funny about all that relaxing, I suppose, but the rest of the weekend was full of laughter. Just like the old man in Mary Poppins, I love to laugh. Don’t you? I know I don’t do it enough. When was the last time you laughed so hard your sides hurt?

The holiday usuals

My cousins and I have been exchanging e-mails, figuring out when and where to hold the family holidays this year. I got an e-vite a few days ago from my cousin on the other side of the family: Thanksgiving is officially on the calendar now. My mom told me tonight that she and my dad have been planning menus for all the upcoming holidays.

And so it begins.

Of course, the reason for Thanksgiving and Christmas is not food. But come on, it is a big part of our celebrations. Am I right?

In the past decade, I have hosted a few Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, even doing the whole turkey thing. And then there was the year we went to Mark’s extended family, where they deep fried a turkey. In the front yard.

But I digress.

Aside from the turkey years, I’ve mostly stuck with side dishes. Mmmm . . . I love side dishes. Mostly the ones that focus on carbs and/or cheese. My “usuals” are green bean casserole, cheesy potatoes, broccoli and rice casserole and baked beans. Well, you know, the baked beans are Mark’s usual.

Kelly is asking for holiday recipes today, so here’s mine for the broccoli casserole.

Broccoli & Rice Casserole

½ stick butter
1 small chopped onion
10 oz. package frozen broccoli
1 can cream of mushroom soup
1 small jar Cheez Whiz
2 cups cooked rice

Saute onion in butter. Add broccoli, soup and cheese. (And yes, it's got to be Cheez Whiz. Don't hate me. Just do it.) Stir in (cooked) rice and pour into 9x13 pan. Bake 30 minutes at 350 degrees.

What are your holiday “usuals”? Will you try anything new this year?

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

Lighting the night, fighting cancer and enjoying a little healthy competition

Grandpa and me, Christmas Day, 1978.
Also known as the day I came home from the hospital.

My grandpa smoked a pipe. And he was good at building things out of wood. He took me fishing at the park one time. I kind of remember going to a state fair…I think. And if we tried to sit in “his” chair, he’d sit on us.

When I think of my grandpa, those are the things that come to mind. I wish I had more memories; I wish I’d had more time to get to know him.

I'm not sure what we were doing here . . . but we were having fun!

Unfortunately, my dad’s dad died 15 years ago. Cancer was the culprit. In particular, a blood cancer, the exact kind of disease fought by The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society – my former employer and charity of choice.

Tomorrow I’ll join my grandma, my parents, my aunts and uncles, and my cousins in The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society’s Light the Night Walk. We’ll carry illuminated balloons, push strollers and wagons, and chat as we walk the two-mile route.

For several years now, we’ve worked together to raise money for research and patient services. And this year is no different.

Except . . . this year, I haven’t done any fundraising.

I got a message from my cousin Steve on Facebook yesterday, informing me that my former co-workers at the Society said hello – and shamed me for not raising any money to fight cancer.

Steve has raised hundreds of dollars.

I’m sure you can understand why my competitive side has started kicking in . . .

• Will you help me beat my cousin?
  
• Or, if you’re a more sentimental sort, honor my Grandpa?
  
• Or, if you’re practical yet giving, support the fight against cancer?

A donation to my Light the Night team will do all of those things and more.

Any amount donated truly does help. During the three years I worked for the Society, I learned that the five-year survival rate for someone diagnosed with leukemia is now more than 50% - it used to be just 14%. And while the survival rate for Hodgkin’s disease used to be just 40%, it’s now more than 85%!

Research – the very kind funded by The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society – made these things possible.

This progress is incredible, but there’s still so much work to be done. Because while those stats are encouraging, the fact remains that every ten minutes, someone dies from a blood cancer.

Every 10 minutes.

Will you help me fund the research that will end these deadly diseases once and for all? Will you help me provide services – like support groups, financial aid and educational programs – for those fighting cancer?

(Will you help me redeem myself with my family and friends by helping me meet my fundraising goal?)

It’s super easy to donate: just visit my fundraising page and click away.

(I’m linking to Things I Love Thursday this week – because I love online fundraising!)

I do ride the bus, you know.

Yesterday at work, I decided to listen to some tunes on Pandora. I was a little tired of my Kathy Mattea and Bobby Brown stations, so I picked my Pink station.

So sue me. I enjoy angry rocker chick music.

But I started noticing that Pink has quite the mouth. Apparently listening to a Pink song on the radio is like watching a Judd Apatow movie on TBS.

You know, all nice and censored cleaned up.

Once I started noticing the profanity, I couldn’t help but notice it in the other songs. That Avril Lavigne? She needs to watch her mouth, too!

Anyway, my reaction to these songs – that I’ve listened to many a time – made me laugh, as I remembered a conversation I had many years ago.

I don’t remember exactly what the context was, but my cousins were discussing something in front of me and assumed either I didn’t understand or was not old enough to hear such things.

So I said to them, my cousins and childhood heroes who happened to be 5, 6 and 8 years older than me, “I do ride the bus, you know.”

Because seriously, who didn’t learn something their parents wished they hadn't on the school bus?

What? That was just my bus?

Well, anyway, my cousins thought that was sooo funny. They laughed and laughed. Or maybe they just laughed and my burning ears heard an echo that wasn’t there. Either way, they thought my bravado was hilarious. And though I don’t remember anything more, I’m pretty sure they waited to finish their conversation until I wasn’t around.

I guess I need to either listen to more uplifting music or remember that I shouldn’t be shocked so easily.

After all, I did ride the bus, you know.

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On another note, Monday night was one more for the books with Annalyn. And by “for the books,” I mean awful, horrible, no good, when is bedtime, I wanna run away from home. As a matter of fact, I gave myself a timeout at one point! But last night was the polar opposite of Monday’s tantrum-filled evening. We spent our precious time together reading, playing, giggling and walking.

Annalyn hadn’t walked in quite a few days, preferring to hold our hands while she walks around or regressing back to her old standby, crawling.

Last night, though, she dug her cat ears from last year’s Halloween costume out of the closet, put them on and got busy walking.

It turns out she was just missing her walking ears.

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Don’t forget to enter the giveaway for Rain on Me by Holley Gerth!

Did you say photos? Vacation photos?

Well, since you asked.

Seriously, I found out after posting the link to Flickr that you have to sign in with a Yahoo account. And since not everyone has that, I figured I'd better put the pictures on here.

I wouldn't want you all to revolt. Or protest. Or whine. Oh, please don't whine as you beg for just a peek at my 367 vacation pictures.

Brace yourself. Here they come. (A few dozen. Not 367. I promise.)

A flamingo was just waking up as we entered Sea World on Monday.

I don't remember where this was in Sea World. But it sure was purty.

Yay! The dolphin show! Or, as we found it to be: the dolphin and people and birds show. Seriously, we didn't expect the acrobats and birds, but they were all incredible (if a tad bit cheesy).

Would you laugh if I told you that I cried during the Shamu show? Because, um, I totally did. Mark mocked the sappy "Believe" theme, and I can't deny that it was a bit over the top. But I'm a sucker for sap, I guess. (Oh, please, who am I kidding? This is not news.)

On a side note, the Shamu show is also where we thought we lost our video camera. When we went to pack the camera on Wednesday, we couldn't find it anywhere. We just knew that it had fallen out of my purse (stupid hobo bag) or been snatched. I sat on hold with Sea World for half an hour, only to learn that no, nobody had turned our camera into Lost & Found. Thankfully (thank you, God!), it was just buried in the backpack. Still not sure how it got there . . . but I don't even care. I'm just so glad our camera (and videos of Annalyn) didn't disappear.

Back to the pics.

What, you thought I went to Florida to take pictures of palm trees?

My friend Kevin told me about Celebration, Florida, a planned town built by Disney. Unfortunately, we planned to check it out on our beach day. The one where it rained a lot. What we saw from the car, though, was beautiful.

I think this is self-explanatory? Unless, like me, you don't know what Downtown Disney is. So, I guess I should explain after all. Just in case. Downtown Disney is essentially an outdoor Disney mall. It's a strip of stores and restaurants, and it may or may not include Pleasure Island. I wasn't quite sure. But I am sure that it was a lot of fun. We didn't actually go to any of the Disney parks, so I was glad to get a little bit of time in the world of Mickey. (After all, we needed to buy a Mickey shirt for Annalyn somewhere!)

This would probably be a good time to tell you about the ferry adventure we had on the way home from Downtown Disney. But . . . no. I think I'll save that one for later.

Do you see this? My brownie sundae? It was ridiculous. That's about all I can say about it. We tried to eat a light dinner (this was an unsuccessful venture, since we ate dinner at a delicious pizzeria), because we'd heard about Ghiradelli's ice cream shop at Downtown Disney. Don't worry - we walked off at least a tenth of the calories we ingested as we shopped. But it was sooo worth it!

I was real excited to visit the Lego Store. I'm not sure why. It was pretty cool. But I'll admit: we were darned tired by the time we reached it. So I snapped a few (a lot) photos, and we headed home.

Well, we tried to head home. But like I said, I'll tell you that story later.

More Legos.

I have never wished more that I had a good camera phone with e-mail capabilities. Because I would have Twitpic-ed this for sure. As this motorcycle passed us, I noticed the couple was not wearing helmets. But before I could even open my mouth to start my usual rant about stupidity and helmet laws and all that, I saw the milk crate on the back of the bike. With a DOG in it. A dog! And that dog didn't have a helmet. Or a seat belt. Or anything to keep it safe! I was appalled! I wanted to call PETA! Or the police! Or the Ghostbusters!

But instead, I asked Mark to speed up a little so I could take a picture.

On Tuesday, we drove to Clearwater. I'd read all about the incredible sunsets, the white sand, the dolphin cruises. What I didn't read about was the thunderstorm that covered most of Florida that day. We kept hoping that we'd outrun the storm, and for a couple hours, we did. But it never really got sunny, and halfway through our walk on the beach, it started raining again.

Fortunately, I was prepared. With a big black umbrella in my purse. I'm not sure who looked more silly - Mark, trying to do his best Baywatch run back to the car, or me, sauntering along the sand, proudly holding my umbrella with a broken spoke.

But you know what? We still had fun. We drove down the coast (or was it up? I forget.) and found a great Italian restaurant in Tampa and overall, had a great day.

The Gulf in Clearwater. Can you see the sun shining? Wayyy back in the corner there?

Our little bathing beauty.

On Thursday, we drove north to meet my parents, my brother and sister-in-law, and our sweet baby who we hadn't seen in four days. And I'm not quite sure who was more excited - her or us!

The second we set her down on the sand (after a picnic lunch and lots of sunscreen for her and me - except my back, which is officially peeling today), she plopped down on the towel and popped that leg up in the air like some sort of beach model.

I have no idea where she learned such a thing.

Annalyn was excited to see us, but she loved spending so much time with her A-ee and Bompa (otherwise known as Allie and Grandpa). I think she's gone into withdrawal since we came home!

What is this? (I promise, several of us were within arm's reach. I just cropped us out.)

Once she got used to the warm ocean water and the gritty sand, Annalyn was perfectly happy to sit in the ocean and let the water rush over her as she played with her bucket.

So happy that she pitched quite a fit when it was time to go. But who wants to talk about that?

After all, who would believe this happy girl would throw a fit?

Oh, how I wish I'd had my camera handy when that happened, though. My sweet daughter, who hasn't sucked her thumb or pacifier for about 18 months, curled up in the fetal position, stuck her thumb in her mouth and sobbed her little heart out.

All because I didn't want her to get sunburned.

(Did I mention that I forgot to put sunscreen on my back that day? And that I had to go buy a loofah on a stick at Target today?)

Ahem.

Annalyn would not tolerate the very cute and comfy (cloth) floaties we bought specifically for this trip. She did, however, put up with the baby floating ring that - as we discovered a couple days later - was built for babies a few pounds lighter than her.

For a baby who loves taking baths, she wasn't all that impressed with the swimming pool. She was a little more energetic the day we swam in the afternoon, but the morning swims? Not so exciting, I suppose.

Long story short, my great uncle - who we went to visit - ended up in the hospital on Friday. So while my parents spent the afternoon visiting him, we went with my brother and sister-in-law to visit the only plantation open to the public in Thomas County: Pebble Hill.

It was beautiful, and even though it was blazing hot that day, we had the chance to take some great pictures on the grounds. (Kids under 6 weren't allowed in the main house, so we wandered around outside - and enjoyed the air conditioned snack shop - while James and Lauren toured the house.)

When my mom called the hospital to find out what was going on with my uncle, she found out that the lady working the information desk was from Pavo, the same small town my great-grandad (my mom's grandad) was from. As a matter of fact, she taught at the elementary school - and taught my aunt way back in the day. Later that afternoon, when Mom and Dad were at the hospital and trying to track down my uncle, the security guard went the extra yard to find him because he knew him, too.

So, as we chatted with the info guy at the plantation while we waited for James and Lauren to finish their tour, I thought I'd give it a shot. I told Mr. Taylor how we were in town visiting my great-uncle and great-aunt, but that my uncle had gotten sick and went to the hospital. I told him their names, and he said, "Oh, yeah! We're in a club together. We went on tours together!" Turns out "a club" was Kiwanis Club, and tours had something to do with their church. So as we waited and finally stopped sweating, we swapped stories about who in our family and his cheats while playing cards.

"Small world" deosn't even begin to describe that place.

We didn't see a sign saying not to climb on the ancient carriages. So we took full advantage of the old-fashioned photo opp.

"Are you finished taking pictures yet?"

Sorry, baby, no.

This photo was taken at the plantation, not on the plane we took home. But if you can imagine taking this face, adding some hysteria and lots of ear-splitting screams? Well, then you might be close to imagining what the passengers of our TINY (34 passenger) plane between Tallahassee and Memphis endured.

Reportedly, Annalyn was an angel for my parents on the flight down. And I am so thankful. Honestly, I really had to pray myself down from overwhelming anxiety about the whole leaving my daughter and she's going to fly without me thing.

But my, oh my, I probably should have spent some of that time praying for our flight home. Because the first hour of the first flight? Complete torture - for Annalyn, for us, for the other passengers and for the kind flight attendant.

It was so bad the flight attendant moved us from the back of the plane to the front. It was so bad that not only was my body covered in sweat (I get sick when flying and did I mention the turbulence?), but I also ended up sobbing myself. It was so bad that the pilots could hear her through the door and sent ear plugs back for the other passengers.

It was bad.

But we survived. And I promise you, we will nev-er fly with a toddler again, barring any life and death emergencies, of course.

And that, is the end of my vacation photo show. Hope you enjoyed it. I know I did!

And now that I see Jill is saying she loves vacation (as I do, obviously), I'm linking up to her. Go check out Things I Love Thursday!